


The Matchmaker

by Neuropsyche



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bread, M/M, M/M sex and all that goes with it, Matchmaking, Peter can be a brat at times, Peter is Spiderman but only sometimes, Peter is brilliant, Tony can be a dick, Tony is Ironman, Very mild dom/sub undertones, very mild spanking/punishment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29566560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuropsyche/pseuds/Neuropsyche
Summary: Pepper decides that her temporary personal assistant should have a chance to meet his celebrity crush - and then decides that they might be good together
Relationships: Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 158
Kudos: 506





	1. Chapter 1

Pepper Potts settled into her chair with a soft sigh – but not soft enough, it turned out.

“Tired?”

She smiled at her young – _very_ young – personal assistant.

“I’m _exhausted_ ,” she admitted. “What do I have left for today?”

Peter didn’t even check the schedule he always had with him. He didn’t need to with his memory, she knew by now.

“You _had_ a meeting with the planners for the carnival,” he told her, setting a bottle of water and a couple of slices of cheddar cheese in front of her. “But it’s just them telling you what they came up with for the games, and I can go for you. You should go home on time, for a change.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, Peter.”

She really wanted to, though. It had been a long week – even for her. But it had been a long week for Peter, as well, since the young man was always right where she needed him to be, taking care of all the little things for her so she could handle the more important things when they came up. Which a couple of times that week had included dealing with someone who Tony had insulted, or annoyed. That kind of thing just added to her day, really.

And not in the good way.

Peter shrugged.

“ _I’d_ have to be there, anyway,” he reminded her. “Go home and get some rest, and I’ll make sure that your schedule, tomorrow, has a spot for me to tell you what I heard, so you can decide which games you want to add in and what you don’t think will be right for the theme.”

“You’re not tired?” she asked, taking a bite of the cheese, appreciatively.

It was almost magic, the way he seemed to know when she was hungry, or when she just needed a minute to herself. Amazing enough, if he’d have been working with her for _years_. Peter, though, had only been her assistant for about three months, now, having taken the job when her regular PA had left for maternity leave. Pepper had hesitated when she’d heard about him; he was incredibly young, was a college dropout, and didn’t seem to have any of the qualifications that were needed to help keep her day going smoothly – which would keep Stark Industries running smoothly, but she’d met him, reluctantly, and had been impressed with what she’d seen, and had offered him the job.

And had been _so_ pleased with the results. He was pretty much a godsend.

“No. I’m fine.” He smiled, shyly, well aware that he was bossing around one of the most powerful women in the country, really. “Go home.”

“I think I will.” She finished the cheese, though, and watched as he moved around her office, efficiently preparing things that would be needed first thing in the morning. She had a couple of meetings, and Peter knew that, of course. “You’re _invited_ to the carnival, you know,” she reminded him.

It was a charity event and there would be many rich and famous people there, which meant that the public wasn’t going to be invited – to avoid a lot of people rushing those famous people when they were trying to relax, themselves. Many of the SI executives were going to be there with their families. A lowly temp wasn’t normally going to be on that guest list, but Pepper had already decided that Peter was an exception.

The boy – and yes, she knew he was _twenty-one_ , but he looked like he was twelve, sometimes, she thought – looked over his shoulder at her, surprised.

“I am?”

“Of course.” It made her smile to see him surprised, because he was always pretty well in command of the things going on around him – it was one of the reasons he was so much help to her. Her smile widened, slyly. “Tony will be there.”

Peter dropped the coffee mug that he’d been setting on the small wet bar – and then with a show of amazing reflexes and speed – caught it with his other hand. He reddened.

“Oh?”

Pepper knew her assistant had a thing for Tony Stark, and she completely understood. The man was _Tony Stark_ , after all. Peter didn’t gaze longingly after him when he saw him, or anything obvious like that, but they worked closely together, after all, and she saw his reactions the few times Peter had been near at hand when she was talking to Tony. Luckily for Peter, Tony was oblivious. Which was just as well, since Pepper knew that Tony wasn’t even _close_ to being good enough for Peter Parker.

“Yes. Whether he wants to be, or not.”

The carnival was her baby, after all, and she wanted as many celebrities as she could have – and that included Tony Stark, on his best behavior. She’d already informed him of that, and he’d grumbled, but had agreed to be there.

“I might drop in…” Peter said, trying for nonchalance as he set the mug back on the bar. He smiled, probably realizing what she was doing. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now, go home, Miss Potts.”

She nodded, feeling refreshed, but still willing to allow him to go to the meeting in her stead.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Parker.”

><><><><>

“May? I’m home.”

Peter knew that his aunt wasn’t, necessarily, waiting around the apartment just to hear those words, but he also knew that she liked it when he announced himself. It was something that Ben used to do when he came home, and it made her smile when her nephew did it, too. She was in the kitchen, frowning at the display on her iPad when he walked in, and she looked over just in time to catch the kiss he pressed, lightly, against her cheek.

“What do you know about lambs?” she asked.

“Mary had one, I think…”

His aunt smiled.

“Smart ass. I meant for _eating_.”

“It was a pretty _little_ one,” he pointed out. “Probably not so good for eating.”

She rolled her eyes, but he knew she was amused, and it made him smile, too.

“I was thinking that I could try making lambchops for dinner.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. What do you think?”

“I think you’ll burn the apartment – and the rest of the building – down, and leave us homeless.”

Another eyeroll, but he noticed that she didn’t deny it. May wasn’t the best of cooks, and they both knew it. They had a lot of simple meals, and Peter didn’t mind in the least. May liked to spend time in the kitchen, but they both were aware of her limitations. It wasn’t cereal and ramen every day, but it wasn’t _lambchops_ , either.

She tried, though.

“Well, maybe we’ll have grilled ham and cheese sandwiches.”

“Sounds good. Do you want any help?”

“No. Just company.” She opened the fridge. “How was work?”

He sat down in the kitchen chair with a shrug.

“It was good.”

“Did you _see_ him?”

“Who?”

She looked at him from over the door of the fridge.

“Don’t even try that, Peter Parker. You know who.”

He shrugged, again.

“No. Well, _yes_ , but only for a moment. I passed him in the hallway on my way to Miss Potts’ office.”

“What was he wearing?”

“Black suit, white shirt.” Peter smiled. “He smelled good.”

May Parker smiled.

“I’ll be he smells amazing.”

“Yeah. Speaking of good smelling men… what did you and _Jeff_ do, today?”

“Nothing too interesting.” She closed the fridge, cheese and ham in hand, now. “He offered me a job.”

Peter frowned.

“He _did_?”

“Yes. And don’t looked so shocked.”

“A job in his bakery? Or a job as his _personal escort_?”

May snorted.

“In his bakery. Baking.”

“He knows you can’t cook.”

“He said anyone can learn how to make bread.”

“You don’t _need_ a job.”

“I know.” She had Ben’s life insurance policy, after all – and he’d made it much bigger than the two had discussed, apparently, and the large check that had been handed to May after her husband’s sudden death had shocked her and Peter, both. “But I don’t want to mope around the apartment, either. It’s time that I started moving on, and freeing you up to go back to school.”

“I’m _free_ , May,” he told her. “I just don’t want to go back, yet. I’m happy doing what I’m doing, and it gives me time to spend with you.”

“I don’t remember you ever telling me and Ben that you wanted to grow up and be a _personal assistant_ ,” she replied. “You didn’t really need to quit school when your uncle died. I would have been fine.”

He knew better, though – and so did _she_. Peter had wanted to be available to be with her, and he hadn’t hesitated. School would always be waiting for him, after all, and thanks to the life insurance policy that _his_ _parents_ had had – and the settlement with the airlines after they’d died – he hadn’t needed to worry about scholarships expiring, or anything like that. He didn’t even finish up his quarter, he’d just withdrawn from his classes and had moved back in with her so she wouldn’t be alone.

That had been almost a year, now, and it had been good for both of them. May was doing much better, and was even seeing (kind of) a man. A man who owned the bakery that took up the entire ground floor of the apartment building. Jeff was a nice guy, and he made May laugh, again. Peter liked him. Even better that he was actually settled down, with a real business and everything. Peter didn’t have to worry that Jeff was after May’s money, or her fine china, or anything like that. And if he was after something _else_ … well, May was an adult, and wasn’t vulnerable or anything, so that would be up to her. Unless he hurt her, of course – then Peter would have something to say about that, of course.

“I like being here for you, May,” he told her, getting up and getting the bread for her. “Besides, dorm life sucked and I missed your cooking.”

She snorted, amused, and swiped at him with the spatula that she was pulling from the drawer.

“Think you’re funny, do you?”

He smiled, always pleased with himself when he made her smile.

“Sometimes.”

Her expression softened, and May smiled, too.

“I think you are, too.”


	2. 2

When Pepper walked into her office the next morning, there was a muffin sitting on her desk, along with a cup of fresh coffee. Peter wasn’t there, but she knew that he was close by, somewhere. The muffins that he brought in every morning were a treat; they were fresh, and usually still warm, and somehow he always brought in the kind that she was most craving that day. Point in fact, the blueberry muffin that was waiting for her this morning looked like it had just come out of the oven, and the smell of those warm berries literally made her salivate when she sat down.

A soft knock on the door and the young man stuck his head in to make sure that she was alone before he walked in, carrying a tablet, but nothing more.

“Good morning, Miss Potts.”

“Good morning, Peter. Thank you.”

He smiled, understanding that she was thanking him for the muffin and coffee.

“You’re welcome. How are you doing, today?”

“I’m fine, and refreshed.” She didn’t thank him for sending him home, early, the day before, but she wanted to. She just knew that it would embarrass him, and knew that it wasn’t necessary. “What do I have scheduled, today?”

“A meeting with Clayton Harvey in acquisitions, in half an hour – he’s coming to _you_ , though. Then prep time for the meeting with Mr. Sato from Sato Corp. I’ve pulled all the notes that you’ll need for that one – his business is doing well, right now, and the numbers are only going to go up, as far as the statistics show. Then lunch, and if you don’t mind making it a working lunch, I can tell you what I found out from the carnival planners. You’re meeting with Mr. Stark to discuss your trip to Wichita at 3pm, and then a final meeting with the VPs of sales at 4pm.” He smiled, again. “I have you scheduled to leave for home at 5pm, sharp.”

Which told her that he intended to make sure that that happened.

“Thank you. Lunch with you would be fine.” She picked a piece of the top of the muffin off, and popped it into her mouth, making a pleased noise and closing her eyes in bliss. “This is so good.”

The boy smiled at that.

“I-“

“Pepper.” They both turned just in time to see Tony Stark walking into her office – without knocking. “What am I supposed to do with this paperwork?”

He brandished a small stack of papers that Peter recognized as a contract even as he walked over. The billionaire glanced at Peter, and then turned his attention to his CEO, who was giving him a look that plainly told Peter that she wasn’t impressed with his lack of courtesy so early in her workday.

“You’re supposed to sign them. That is why they were put on your desk, yesterday.”

He frowned.

“You don’t want me to read them, first?”

“I didn’t expect you to be interested in doing that,” she corrected. “Go ahead, if you’d like. I want to send them off to the lawyers this afternoon.”

Stark leaned his hip against her desk, eyeing the blueberry muffin, suddenly. As if seeing and doing were the same action for him – and Pepper _knew_ that many times with Tony that was the case – he reached out and broke a piece from the top, the same way Pepper had, and put it in his mouth.

“That’s pretty good.”

“It’s _mine_ ,” Pepper said, pulling the plate away from him and closer to her. “If you want one, go get your own.”

The billionaire rolled his eyes and looked at Peter.

“Patrick? Go get me a muffin, will you? Just put it on my desk, I’ll be-“

“His name is _Peter_ ,” Pepper said, arching an eyebrow more surprised than annoyed – although she was annoyed for Peter’s sake, since the comment had been rude. Not as bad as many things that popped out of Tony’s mouth, but uncalled for. Especially since she knew that the man had a fine memory for names, and he knew Peter’s. “And he isn’t your gofer.”

Peter smiled, not at all upset at the mistaken identity.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Tony ignored Pepper’s response, and nodded at the younger man. Then he turned his attention back to his CEO.

“What time are we meeting?”

“Peter?”

She knew, of course, since her PA had just told her the schedule, but she wanted to allow him to speak up. And he did.

“Three o’clock.”

“We’re going to be in your office,” Pepper reminded him. “Don’t be late or I swear to God, I’ll paint your walls pink while I’m waiting.”

Stark scowled at the threat, even though it was clearly not serious. He just didn’t like being told what to do. Even by Pepper – who was as amazing as a person could be, really.

“I’ll be there.”

He left, then, taking his papers with him, and Pepper shook her head as the door closed behind him.

“He _knows_ your name.”

“It’s alright,” Peter assured her. “I’m sure he has plenty of more important things to remember.”

“Don’t you dare go get him a muffin.”

Peter smiled.

“Alright.” He handed her the tablet. “I’ll let you get started on this.”

“Thank you, Peter.”

><><><><><>

“You really made this?”

May nodded, looking pleased with herself, and smiling at the boy who was the center of her world. Not quite as much as he had been when he was a little guy, but still her only living relative and the person she loved more than anyone else.

“I really made it.”

“From _scratch_?” he asked. “You didn’t pull it out of a box and toss it in the oven?”

“Ask Jeff. I made the dough, and then put it to raise – _rise_? – and then I baked it. And promptly claimed it for my own so you could try it.”

The young man tore open the small bread roll and looked at it, pretending to be suspicious.

“Are you sure it’s safe? Did you let some guinea pig try it, first?”

“You are the guinea pig.”

“You know the world will lose its least known superhero if something went wrong in the making, and it _poisons_ me…”

She smiled.

“A risk I’m willing to take. Eat it, or I’m going to throw a tantrum here and now.”

He took a bite, his eyes amused and cheerful, and chewed it, carefully, thoughtfully.

“It’s good.”

“Of course it is. Don’t sound so surprised.”

“So you think you’re going to like working I the bakery?”

“I think I will. It was nice to get out, today, and have a place to go. You understand that.”

“Of course.” He took another bite of the roll. “HR is alright with you dating the boss?”

May smirked.

“Jeff _is_ HR, and he’s fine with it. Besides, they’re shorthanded, right now, and he could use some help.”

“As long as you’re happy.”

“I am.”

“And I don’t die from poisoned bread.”

“You’ll be fine.” She handed him another. “How was work?”

“Busy. Pepper is getting ready to her trip to Kansas, and getting ready for the carnival.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“It should be. For the people attending, anyway. There is a lot of work behind the scenes for the people who will be running it.”

“Did you see him, today?” May asked, curiously.

Peter smiled.

“He _spoke_ to me.”

“Really? What did he say?”

“He called me _Patrick_ and told me to go get him a muffin.”

May scowled.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“That was rude.”

“Yeah. A little. It’s no big deal.” He’d been called much worse in school, after all. “Pepper put him in his place.”

“You should have.”

The boy shrugged.

“If I was dating _HR_ I might have. But I’m okay, May, _really_. He didn’t mean anything rude by it.” _Probably_. “And my feelings aren’t hurt. I doubt that he even really thinks of me a person and not just a minion. And not even _his_ minion, at that.”

“Well, I think you need someone else to crush over…”

Peter smiled at that.

“Like who…?”

“Captain America?” she suggested. “He seems like a nice guy – and he’s _older_ , just the way you like them.”

“He’s a hundred, or something…”

“He’s pretty cute,” she reminded him. “And more muscular than Tony Stark.”

“Mr. Stark is closer at hand. It’s more convenient for me.”

His aunt shrugged.

“Fine. But don’t let him treat you like a nobody.”

“I _am_ a nobody,” Peter reminded her, not at all upset at the statement, and loving her for caring about his emotional well-being. “To _him_ , anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so work has been a shit-storm this last week or so and we've been stuck with mandatory overtime - which is great for payday and sucks for finding time to write. I'm still here, and have not abandoned this story, I promise!


	3. 3

Tony Stark was in a foul mood when he walked into his office the next morning. He was stalled on his latest project – not a _suit_ project, but there was always tech that he was working on, even stuff that wasn’t involved with being Ironman. Being _Tony Stark_ meant that the tech always had to be the best, and the newest, and the freshest. Which meant cutting edge, and Tony knew that _he_ was the one that was always doing the cutting. He didn’t like being stalled. It didn’t happen often – and he knew he’d figure it out, sooner rather than later – but it was still annoying.

His mood didn’t improve, noticeably, when there was a knock on his door and Pepper walked in, munching on what looked like a cinnamon roll as she went over to his desk.

“Good morning.”

He ignored the greeting, eyes going to the pastry.

“What are you eating?”

She smiled, looking at it before taking a bite, and shrugging.

“I’m not sure. Peter brought it in this morning and had it sitting on my desk when I came in. I thought it was a cinnamon roll, but there isn’t any cinnamon that I can taste, and there _is_ ginger.” Her expression made it clear that it was delicious. “He said ginger is healthier, and he doesn’t want me to get sick before my trip.”

Stark scowled.

“Ginger is disgusting.”

“I wasn’t going to offer you any of it,” she assured him. “But you’re wrong, just so you know.”

Tony didn’t like to be called wrong in any situation and it showed, even for something so minor.

“Did you need something?”

“I’m going to be out for a while, today. I was just letting you know in case you decided to come looking for me.”

“Where are you going?” he asked, his tone already distracted as he pulled up a display that was filled with a complicated equation.

“I have to sign off on the carnival ideas and food. I’m taking Peter and we’re going to go sample what the caterers are suggesting as carnival food.”

“Why are you taking _him_?”

“Because I’m not going to chase my healthy ginger roll with a lot of greasy food. Peter’s going to eat it, and then tell me if it’s something that we should approve.”

“I-“

As if saying his name had summoned him, there was a diffident knock on the open door of Tony’s office, and Peter was suddenly there, looking relaxed and casual in slacks and a crisp, white, button down.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, politely. “I-“

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Pepper told him, waving him into the room. “I was just telling Tony, here, that we were leaving, soon.”

The boy walked over, his gaze stopping on Tony only a moment longer than was needed, and then on the display before he turned to Pepper.

“I asked for the car to be ready at 10 o’clock, if that’s alright?”

“That’s fine, thank you.” She leaned her hip against Stark’s desk, casually, and in no hurry to leave, since this gave her PA a chance to be near Tony – who was aloof with most people, especially the hired help, as he called them. She supposed that being mobbed by scores of adoring fans could get old and annoying after a while, but Pepper was truly beginning to be fond of Peter, and he was one of those fans, and now he was in the same room as Tony Stark, and why not extend the conversation to allow him a chance to be there, too? “This roll is amazing.”

The boy smiled.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s a specialty at the bakery. I’ll make sure to tell them it’s a success.”

“Do that.” She turned her attention to Tony. “Peter lives over the bakery.”

He frowned, wondering why she thought he’d be remotely interested in that tidbit of information, but knowing that she would – literally – rip his tongue out of his mouth if he asked that question aloud. Instead, he opted for polite disinterest.

“That’s convenient. No wonder you get a pastry, every morning. I assumed he was going out of his way to schmooze you.”

“A sweet indulgent is the best way to start a day,” he said. “It makes the rest of the morning seem brighter.”

Tony scowled at the chipper optimism. He was too tired and grumpy for anything, or anyone, that wholesome, just then. Pepper smiled, amused at the difference between the two men she was talking to, just then. It was like night and day, really. She suddenly was reminded of the whole ‘opposites attract’ saying, and wondered if it were true. If there were ever two opposites, she was looking at them, now wasn’t she?

“Peter tells me that the ginger muffins are almost as good as the blueberry ones.”

“Yeah?” he glanced at the younger man, and then back at Pepper. “What does he know?”

She frowned, but Peter spoke up before Pepper could.

“I know that your _math_ is wrong,” he replied, his tone still polite, even as he gestured at the display. “You inverted the square of nine on the second part of the formula.” Pepper wasn't the only one to look surprised by the comment, but Peter flushed, slightly, realizing that the billionaire probably didn’t like having other people looking at his work. Peter knew he didn’t like it. He gave _Pepper_ a wry – almost apologetic look, but didn’t even glance at Stark. “I have a few things to take care of, but I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

Pepper smiled.

“Thank you, Peter.”

They both watched as he closed the door behind him, and Tony looked at his CEO.

“What the hell?”

“What?”

She took another bite of her roll, popping the last of it in her mouth – almost with disappointment that it was gone.

“What do you mean ‘what’? He just told me that my math is wrong.”

He looked scandalized. And shocked. Pepper hadn’t seen that particular mix of emotions on his face, before. It made her smile, pleased that Peter had made a stand against Tony’s sometimes snotty behavior.

“Is it?”

Stark didn’t even have to look.

“It _is_. But I did it on purpose.” As if FRIDAY would ever let him make a simple math mistake. “I was trying to determine if I could make more – “ he cut himself off. “What his deal?”

“What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I mean, why is your personal assistant brilliant?”

“Peter?”

“No, the pregnant one who left. Of course, Peter.”

“I told you he was smart,” she reminded him. “You shrugged and asked me how smart he could be if he was only aspiring to be a PA.”

He didn’t remember that conversation, but it was clear that she did. No big surprise there.

“Well…?”

“Well…?”

“C’mon, Pep. Don’t be like that.” He was burning with curiosity and he hated that. Almost as much as he hated all the other things that he hated. “Who is he?”

“He’s Peter Parker,” she said. “Or, as you prefer to call him; _Patrick_. He’s twenty-one and dropped out of Columbia. I don’t know what he did, before, or why he quit school, but he’s amazing. He’s kind, and efficient, and I’m lucky to have him.”

“Why don’t you _marry_ him?” Tony asked, sarcastically, rolling his eyes at how she was gushing over the boy. He ignored the fact that he’d been the one to ask her about him. “He’s right down the hall.”

Pepper smirked.

“Because I’m not his type.” she told him – wondering as she did so if Peter would mind, but deciding that it would be interesting to see Tony’s reaction to her next words. He was the genius engineer, yes, but she’d always enjoyed experiments in school, and she was still thinking about the observations she’d made earlier, about opposites attracting. Easy enough on Peter’s end, since she already knew he was drawn to the man, even if he hadn’t come out and told her. But would Tony find Peter as fascinating? She wanted to see. First, she needed to lay in a little seed of information that would make Peter more interesting to him. “He prefers _men_.”

The billionaire’s expression never changed.

“How do you know that?”

“I read people very well, Tony,” she reminded him. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t make you as much money as I do.” She looked at her watch. “I need to go. Any questions?”

“Did he major in math?”

She hid her smug amusement.

“I meant about anything to do with work.”

“Oh.” He shook his head. “No. Have fun.”


	4. Chapter 4

“How’s the stomach?”

Peter smiled at his boss, and shrugged.

“I’m fine. Just don’t invite me to lunch, any time soon.”

They were on their way back from the caterer’s, and the list of carnival food was set. Everything from corndogs, to elephant ears, to fried corn on the cob and deep fried butter. Very few of the choices that the planners had put in front of Peter had been healthy option, but all of them had earned approval from the boy when he’d tried them. Pepper hadn’t tried anything, but she watched Peter’s expression when he ate something, and could tell if he said that it was good to be polite, or if he’d meant it. In each instance, he’d meant it. So she’d approved them, as well, and that was one less thing to worry about.

“You’re safe, today,” Pepper assured him. “You’re not feeling sick from all the food?” she pressed. “You’re certain?”

“I’ll need to find something active to do – to walk it off. But I’m fine.”

And he had plenty of things to take care of, while she went to lunch, and then spent time prepping for her meeting.

“Thank you for helping me with it.”

“You’re thanking me for eating _junk food_ ,” the young man told her, amused. “And _good_ junk food, at that. You’re welcome.”

“I still appreciate it.” She smiled. “We’ll make Tony come with us, next time.”

“Good luck with that. He doesn’t strike me as the carnival food type.”

“You’d be surprised,” Pepper said. “He isn’t all expensive meals every night at exclusive restaurants. Sometimes he can be down to earth, too.”

“I _would_ be surprised,” he agreed, looking like he didn’t believe a word of it, but was just too polite to say so.

“I’ll prove it to you.”

Peter frowned.

“How?”

Her smile widened – but was a bit sly, now – and she allowed it to be.

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

The boy rolled his eyes at such a childish phrase coming from her, but didn’t try to convince her to tell him. He was curious, though, and wondered what she had up her sleeves.

><><><><><>

“What? _No_.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m busy, tonight.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow.

“Busy doing what?”

“I have a _date_.”

“With…?”

“Some hot blonde… Why don’t you take Peter?”

“I _am_ taking Peter. And you’re coming with us.”

“Pepper, I don’t want to go to a barbeque joint and try Kansas ribs…”

“Well, you’re _going_ to,” she told him, firmly. “Either come with me, tonight, so you can try the menu on the place, or you can come with me to _Wichita_ and try it from the source.”

“What?”

She shook her head, slightly exasperated at him.

“The people I’m meeting with in Wichita have done nothing but tell me how amazing their food is – their _barbeque_ , in particular – and that means I’m going to be invited to dinner to try it. An invitation I will have to accept to be polite. I want to know how to eat it without making a mess of myself – and that means practice. You can come with me, since you’re so good at experimenting. If anyone could figure it out, it’s you.”

He scowled.

“Don’t _patronize_ me.”

“Are you coming?”

Stark huffed.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, now that she’d gotten her way – and had just set Tony and Peter in the same room for a longer amount of time than all of the time they’d interacted since the younger man had started working for her. This would be interesting. “Peter called us in reservations for six-thirty. Call your date and cancel. I don’t want to be distracted by a floozie.”

“She isn’t a _floozie_.”

She wasn’t actually _real_ , truth be told, so he could at least be honest when he protested. Tony just hadn’t had time to think of anything better when Pepper had come into his office, and had told him that she needed him to have dinner with her that evening.

“Dress is casual,” Pepper added. “I’ll send Happy to pick you up.”

“I can drive.”

“I know,” she agreed, already turning and heading for his door. “But this way I can be assured that you’ll be there.”

How well she knew him, Tony thought, grumpily.

“Fine.”

><><><><><>

“Wait. What?”

Peter smiled at the disbelief in his aunt’s voice.

“I said, I can’t have dinner with you, tonight.”

“I heard that part,” she replied. “It’s the rest of it that I’m not so sure I heard.”

“Because I’m having dinner with Miss Potts and Mr. Stark.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It’s casual. Miss Potts wants to try and learn how to eat ribs without getting messy – and she wants to try different kinds. So we will all order a different type and try them all that way.”

“Wow.”

“Right?”

“What are you going to wear?”

“Not white. We’re dressing casually.”

“Jeans?”

“That’s pretty _casual_ … I was thinking slacks and a polo…”

“You’re going to a rib place, Peter,” she pointed out. “That means jeans – but wear a button down. You’ll look nice and still be casual.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Trust me.”

“Alright.”

><><><><><>

“You look nice.”

Peter blushed, appreciating the compliment, and smiling at his blushes. Like he had never been complimented by a pretty woman, before?

“You look great,” he told her, pleased that she was wearing jeans, too, and relieved that May had told him to dress down. “I was worried that I was too casual.”

Pepper shook her head.

“It’s a rib place,” she reminded him. “You’d just be asking to make a mess if you were wearing a suit and a tie.”

They’d met at the entrance to the restaurant at exactly the right time. Tony wasn’t there, yet, but the hostess offered to take them to their table – which was in a small, private, room. Pepper hadn’t, specifically asked for Peter to get a private room, but the boy wasn’t going to allow her to make a mess of herself and maybe have pictures posted on social media from someone just passing by. This way they could do their experiment in peace and quiet.

They had just been seated and ordered drinks – a cola for Peter and coffee for Pepper – when a motion at the door drew their attention from the menus they’d just been handed. Tony walked in, wearing jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, and making Pepper smile and Peter gawk for just a moment, before he managed to school his expression to one that was a bit more polite, and much more professional.

“Pepper…” he said by way of greeting as he joined them at the table. He looked at her companion, and decided that he looked even younger when they weren’t in the office. “Peter.”

“Hi, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony.”

He seated himself across from them, and ordered a scotch, picking up his menu.

“So? What’s the plan?”

He was being cautiously polite. Pepper didn’t know it, but Tony was almost looking forward to having another chance to talk to her PA. Especially since his showing in Tony’s office with his equation.

“There are ribs, chicken and brisket,” she said, having done her homework, already. “We each order one, and then we see what they look like and how best to eat it, neatly.” She turned to Peter. “Preference?”

He smiled.

“Ladies first.”

“I’ll have the chicken,” she decided.

“I’m not even sure what a brisket is,” Tony said, somewhat sourly since he didn’t really want to admit it. “I’ll order ribs.”

“Brisket is breast meat,” Peter told them. He’d done his homework, too. “I’ll order it so you can try it.”

The waitstaff brought their drinks, and took their orders, and then left them alone. Tony turned to Peter almost immediately.

“I knew my equation was wrong,” he told the boy, taking a drink of his scotch.

A little surprised that he was talking to him – much less defending himself – Peter nodded.

“I know. I mean, I thought about it, later, and assumed that you probably did. Were you manipulating the numbers to try and increase the torque in something?”

Stark couldn’t hide his surprise – and he scowled when he saw Pepper smile, amused.

“I was. How did you know that?”

“Because it’s what I would have tried,” Peter admitted. “If I could think of it, I figured you definitely would have.”

“That’s right.”

“Did it work?” Pepper asked, curiously, unwilling to be left out of the conversation, but already trying to suppress the urge to pat herself on the back. They were talking, now, weren’t they? “The torque thing, I mean?”

Tony shrugged.

“Not, yet. But I still have a few options.” He looked at Peter. “What’s your deal?”

“What?”

“Your deal,” Tony repeated. “How are you that smart? And why aren’t you still in school?”

Which told Peter that he knew that he’d dropped out. Either by being told, or by looking it up, himself. Peter’s transcripts were supposed to be private, but he supposed a billionaire with a quantum AI could probably break into anywhere that he wanted.

“I dropped out, last year.”

“Because…?”

“It might be a _personal_ reason,” Pepper said. “Maybe-“

“My uncle died,” Peter replied. “I moved in with my aunt to make sure she wasn’t alone.”

“Oh.”

“She’s fine,” the boy added, quickly, unwilling to make things awkward. “She’s even – _kind of_ – seeing a guy.”

“Are you planning on going back to school, then?” Pepper asked.

“When I’m sure May is ready.”

“That’s nice,” Pepper said, smiling.

He was just proving her point, wasn’t he? Such a person! Sweet. Caring. Thoughtful. And _cute_ , she added, silently, watching Tony’s reaction to the conversation.

“She and my uncle raised me when my parents were killed,” Peter told her. “I was pretty little, and they didn’t even stop to think about it.” He smiled. “It’s worth the interruption to make sure that May is alright, first. I can always pick up where I left off.”

“What are you pursuing?” Tony asked, curiously, unable to help himself. “Maths? Sciences? Going to be a rocket scientist?”

‘An engineer of some kind,” Peter said, shrugging. “I haven’t – exactly – figured it out.” His smile was wry. “It’s probably a good thing – for me – that I took a break. It’ll give me a chance to decide what I want to do before I get too far along.”

“What interests you the most?” Stark pressed. “What do you see yourself doing?”

Pepper didn’t bother to hide her smile, this time, as she reached for her coffee cup.

This should be interesting.


	5. 5

“Well, that answers that question…”

Pepper shook her head, looking down at herself. She was messy, despite the mountain of napkins that was piled on the table in front of her. Hands, face and even spots on her shirt and jeans were all bearing mute evidence of one degree or another of the fact that she’d had a messy meal of barbeque.

“It was good, though,” Peter pointed out.

He, too, was messy, she saw, smiling and wondering how he’d smeared his forehead with a line of barbeque sauce. Must have wiped his brow, or something, with a finger, or the side of his hand, most likely, and since it was above his eye level, he didn’t even know it was there.

“That, it was.”

“You two look ridiculous,” Tony told them, taking in his CEO and her PA with an expression that was equal parts smug and amused. He, of course, wasn't immune to the ravages of a lot of barbeque sauce on meat, but he was just buzzed enough from the drinks that he’d downed in between his own ribs, Pepper’s chicken, and a sample of Peter’s brisket that he was willing to ignore the sauce that was staining his own clothing and exposed skin to point it out in his companions. “In case you weren’t aware.”

Peter shrugged. He’d had a very good time. Miss Potts was adept at making people comfortable; he’d already known that, of course, since he’d seen her in countless meeting, and she had done it for himself when he’d first taken the job as her temporary PA when her regular one had left for maternity leave. She’d done it, again, that evening, and despite the fact that he was eating with Tony freaking Stark at the table, it had been much more relaxed than he ever could have anticipated.

Yes, Stark was drunk – or close to it – and that had mellowed him a bit, most likely, but it was still a good time. The man had asked him a ton of questions about himself – and had even made it sound like he was really interested. Peter didn’t have any secrets – well, not true, since he did have one that was a doozy – but the rest of his life was an open book, pretty much, so he’d answered most of them. Pepper had been quick to carry the conversations along if they flagged, and Peter had enjoyed himself.

It looked like Stark and Miss Potts had, too. She smirked at the billionaire’s comment, rather than be annoyed.

“You have corn bread crumbs in your goatee.”

Tony shrugged, but he ran his hand along his chin.

“Saving it for later.” He looked at Peter. “You need to go wash your face.”

The boy smiled, slightly, but Pepper noticed that he’d lost that slightly awed expression that he’d carried, before, now that he’d spent some time around Tony. Which was all to the good. He had held his own with the older man all evening, answering whatever questions that he asked – and Tony had spent a good fifteen minutes testing Peter’s intelligence with all kinds of complicated questions about science, math, and physics.

“I need to get going,” he said, looking at Pepper, apologetically. “It’s getting late, and I need to be up, early.”

“Did you drive?”

“I used an UBER,” he told her.

“I’ll drive you home.”

“You live the opposite direction,” Peter pointed out. “It’ll make you have a much later night. Thank you, though.”

“Happy can drop him off,” Tony said, speaking up. “After he takes me home. It isn’t that far away, and then we’ll know he got home, safely.”

She was surprised by the offer, but hid the reaction – and the one that followed, which was pretty smug. Instead, she nodded, looking at Peter to see what he thought of the suggestion.

“That’s a good idea.”

The younger man nodded, glancing at Tony, and then back at her.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I’m not going to hit on you,” Tony assured him, although the more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to him. Peter Parker was a brilliant young man, and (maybe it was the booze talking) he was _beautiful_. Tony wanted to lick the line of barbeque sauce off his forehead, suddenly. “And it’s better than riding with a stranger, right? Or waiting for them to get here?”

“Yes.”

Why wouldn’t he want to extend their evening as much as possible? Peter thought. It wasn’t likely to happen, again, any time soon – and he’d had a good time soaking in the view that was Tony Stark.

“Good. It’s settled.”

They didn’t wait around. The check – and a generous tip – were paid, and the three went outside into the cool night air. The valet brought Pepper’s car to them just as Happy pulled up in the luxury sedan that he’d brought Tony in.

“Thank you, Peter,” Pepper told him with a warm smile. “I had a nice evening.”

His answering smile was amused. She’d just thanked him for eating, again. Twice in one day. It had to be a record, or something.

“It was nice,” he agreed. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“And thank you for forcing me to come, too,” Tony said, abruptly, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder, impatiently, and turning the slighter man toward the waiting car. _He_ was ready to leave, now, and didn’t really enjoy goodbyes. “We will _both_ see you in the morning.”

She rolled her eyes, but turned away from them and headed to her car. For Tony, that was practically flirting, really, and as far as she was concerned, the evening had been a success. Even if she did have barbeque stains on her shirt that proved there was no way to eat the stuff without being messy.

><><><><><>

Peter found himself being hustled into the back of the car, and Tony sliding into the seat next to him, his bigger body deliciously close – although not quite touching.

“We’re taking you home, first, boss?” Happy asked.

“Yeah.” He turned to Peter. “You’re good with that?”

“Of course. Yeah.”

The car pulled out onto the road, and Tony leaned back with a slightly exaggerated sigh.

“I ate too much and I drank too much. Especially for a Thursday.” He closed his eyes, and leaned slightly against Peter, who froze, uncertainly. “Don’t worry, kid,” he mumbled, sleepily. “I’m not hitting on you. I promised Pepper, remember?”

“What? Oh. I mean, yeah.”

“You’re just more comfortable than leaning my head against the glass.”

“Okay.”

He glanced at Happy, but the driver wasn’t paying any attention to what was going on. Of course, the windows were tinted, so there wasn’t any light coming in from the streetlights or the buildings that they were passing, and it was dark in the back of the car. Peter forced himself to relax, a little, and to enjoy the contact. He even shifted, just a bit, to make Stark more comfortable, and the man made a soft noise of appreciation and tucked his cheek against Peter’s shoulder, his hand sliding along the boy’s arm.

A moment later, he was asleep – or passed out – snoring, softly, in Peter’s ear.

><><><><><><

When the car pulled into the private parking garage for Tony’s apartment building, Happy stopped, braking with just a little more alacrity that was, necessarily, needed. The jolt did what the man had undoubtedly intended; it brought Tony awake with a start. He sat up, looking around, and wiping his face with his hand that wasn’t tucked against Peter’s.

“We’re here?”

“Yeah, boss,” Happy said, and now the light in the interior of the car came on, making Tony wince and Peter squint. “You need help getting in?”

“No. Thanks. I’m good.” He sounded a bit more sober and alert, Peter decided. The nap must have done him good. Tony looked at Peter his brown eyes – his _beautiful_ brown eyes, Peter thought, privately – lit with a challenge. “Unless _you_ want to help me?” he asked, pointedly.

Peter smiled, but there was no way he was going to have anything to do with a drunken Tony Stark. He liked the idea of being so close to him – of course – and touching him? And smelling him? The stuff of many a fantasy. The _reality_ , however, was buzzed and wouldn’t probably even remember the offer, much less anything else that happened after. Peter wasn’t a one-night stand kind of guy. Not even for someone as crazy good looking as Tony Stark.

“I thought you told Miss Potts that you weren’t going to hit on me?” he countered.

“I’m not,” he was assured. “I’m just giving you an opening to hit on _me_.”

“You’re on your own,” Peter told him, feeling pleased at the flirting, despite the resolve to not go any further with it. “I have to get up early.”

“Too bad…” Tony opened his door, and glanced at the driver. “Take him home, Happy. Make sure he gets in, safe.”

Who knew what kind of shitty neighborhood the guy lived in, after all?

“I will.” They both watched as Stark walked to the elevator, slightly unsteady but having no trouble. “You missed your chance, Peter,” Happy said, as he started the car, again.

“What do you mean?”

“He isn’t that drunk,” the driver said. “He was just _pretending_ to be, so that you could take advantage of him.”

“Oh.” Peter shrugged, smiling. “Just as well. I’ve done the walk of shame, before, and I’m not up for doing it, again, any time soon.”

><><><><><><>

He wasn’t surprised that the kitchen light was on when he walked through the apartment door only a short time later. He wasn’t surprised that May was waiting up for him, either. Although the pretzels that were sitting on the small plate were new.

“Well?”

He smiled.

“What are you doing up?” he asked, pretending dismay as he looked at his watch. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Waiting for you. Have a pretzel,” she added. “And tell me everything.”

Peter chuckled, sitting down at the table.

“Did you make them?”

“Yes.” She frowned. “Tell me that’s barbeque on your forehead and not blood…”

“What?” He wiped his hand along his forehead, feeling ridiculous and wondering how long it had been there for it to be so dried out that it was flaking off. “He could have told me…”

“He being _Tony Stark_?”

“Yes.”

May smiled, pushing the plate his way.

“What was he like?”

“He was nice.” Peter smiled, glad to have an appreciative audience. “And he _touched_ me.”

She frowned.

“Inappropriately?”

The young man shook his head.

“I _wish_.”

And then, knowing that she wasn’t going to let him go to bed until he told her what she wanted to know – and that the telling would help him calm down a bit so he’d be able to sleep – he did.


	6. 6

Peter started his day at the bakery.

Well, _technically_ , he started his day in the shower, taking care of a raging hard on that he’d woken up with, with little doubt what fantasy had brought it on. He’d gone to bed the evening before thinking back on the evening’s conversations with Mr. Stark (and Miss Potts, of course – although the focus of his thoughts were almost entirely the other man, at the moment). His hand had slid under the blankets as he’d thought back to the ride to Stark’s apartment building, and the very pleasant sensation of having the older man asleep on his shoulder. Peter knew that he could have reached out and touched him, had he been daring enough to do so. Could have rested his hand on Tony Stark’s leg. His thigh? Higher, toward the older man’s lap? He groaned at that particular scenario and the purely fantastical scene that played out in his head when he’d walked Tony up to his apartment.

True, he hadn’t done anything of the sort, but Peter had a very good imagination, and it didn’t take long for him to become hard just considering the possibility.

He didn’t actually _masturbate_ , though. Not in his room. The walls of the apartment were fairly thin, after all. Peter hadn’t known it, of course, but back when he was thirteen, Ben had sat him down one day and explained – to Peter’s mortification – that anyone sitting in the kitchen might be able to hear anything that was going on in his room. His uncle had been understanding, and had explained that some activities were better done in the shower, where the sound of the water would cover any other noises, and there was a handy way to clean up, afterwards. Peter simply stroked himself until he fell asleep – and his brain did the rest.

He was much less reserved the next morning in the shower, and the completion there had coincided with the image of Tony Stark naked, looming over Peter’s open legs and pressing down on him. The younger man had given himself a few more tugs, and then had taken a deep breath before finishing his shower.

That was the way to start the day, really.

Now, though, he was ready for work, dressed as professionally as his conservative clothing budget allowed, and he let himself into the employee entrance of the bakery, careful to stay away from the actual baking side – since he knew his dark blazer would attract flour, and anything else that might show up against the fabric. And don’t even start with the jams and jellies that might get smeared on his clothes.

“Peter!” Jeff Walden was a large guy in his late forties or early fifties, Peter had never asked which. He wore his brown hair short, and his faintly olive complexion gave unmistakable testimony of a heritage from somewhere in the Mediterranean. He didn’t have that accent, though. His accent was a hundred percent the Bronx, although he lived and worked in Queens. He was a smart guy, and had a good sense of humor, and – most importantly to Peter, at least – treated May like a queen. “On your way to work?”

The boy nodded.

“I thought I’d stop in and get some pastries to impress the boss.”

Jeff smiled, knowing that Peter didn’t mean it, but amused at the phrasing.

“Tony Stark?” he asked. “May said you went out with him, last night.”

“I didn’t go out with him,” Peter corrected, smiling, as well, even as he shook his head. “We had a _working_ dinner. And he isn’t my boss; Miss Potts is.”

“Still had dinner with him…”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“What do you have ready?”

“ _Everything_ , you know that.” Jeff and his bakers started their day much, much, earlier than Peter started his, and he was an early riser. “Come on, I’ll get you a few things that are sure to impress Tony Stark.”

“Miss Potts,” Peter told him. “She’s getting them, not Tony.”

“You like him, though, right?” Jeff asked, frowning. “In the ‘ _I want to see him naked kind of way’_ …?”

“Yes.”

It was no secret, after all. Of course, a million other people liked Tony Stark like that, too, Peter was sure. The number was probably much larger, even.

“Then take him a pastry, too. But don’t be fawning all over him. You have to play hard to get. Act like you’re not interested… Be cool.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at the advice.

“Like you did with May?”

Jeff’s smile was instant, and he glanced across the room to where Peter’s aunt was watching one of the others whip together a large bowl of icing.

“That’s different,” he said, turning back to the boy. “I had to act quick with May, to make sure no one else caught her eye. Tony Stark has a lot of people catching his eye and all of them are trying to get his attention. You want to get his attention? Don’t try.”

Peter frowned.

“How does _that_ work?”

“You’ll see.” As they were talking, the man had folded open one of the small boxes that he sent his customers off with, and was selecting a few different pastries. “Make sure he sees you, but don’t be too available. Which will be easier if he isn’t your boss. That means you’ll be around, but he doesn’t really have a lot of reasons to talk to you, right?”

“Yeah.”

Unfortunately.

“Did he drink last night?”

“Yes.”

“A lot?”

“I don’t know if it was a lot for _him_ …”

Jeff nodded, and another pastry went into the box.

“The long john for you. The cherry cruller for your boss, and the mint scone for Stark. It’ll help settle his stomach if he’s feeling last night.”

“Thanks, Jeff.”

“Any time.”

Peter waved at May, paid for his box of artistic pastries, and headed out the front door, now. He liked to make sure that he was early, to make sure Miss Potts’ day went as smoothly as possible.

><><><><><>

Tony sighed, rubbing his cheek as he walked into his office the morning after dinner at the Barbeque place. He was tired, and annoyed, and his stomach was just a little queasy after the alcohol that he’d consumed the night before had clashed with the barbeque he’d eaten. He’d started to call Pepper, fully intending to tell her that he was taking a sick day, or something, but he realized that if he did that, then he’d have to wait until Monday to see Peter Parker, again.

Presuming he had any reason to go to Pepper’s office if the younger man was around, that was.

That particular thought had brought him out of bed, however reluctantly, and into the shower. Tony had scowled at his reflection, and then had put his face under the hot spray of water, his hand sliding down to find his penis.

When he’d returned to his place the night before, he’d been slightly irritated that he’d walked into the apartment alone. Peter was young, cute, and brilliant. All were things that attracted Stark. Despite his promise to Pepper – which he never really intended to keep – Tony had fully expected Peter to come up with him and keep him company that night. He’d been careful to not be an ass – and not just because he knew Pepper would have flayed him if he’d mistreated one of her employees, and Peter, specifically. He’d even carefully cuddled against him in the car, making sure to let the boy know that he was interested. Yes, he’d fallen _asleep_ , but that wasn’t so bad – and he’d been tired from the lack of sleep the night before.

Maybe he’d screwed up? Had done something that had turned Peter off? He hadn’t been so drunk that he didn’t remember everything that had been said – or _done_ – and he’d considered it all, but really couldn’t think of anything he’d done that might make Peter decline what had been a pretty obvious invitation.

Instead of taking young Peter Parker to his bed that night, Tony had found himself in the shower, jerking off to the images of himself putting the younger man on his belly and eating him out. Of making him moan and beg for Tony to slam his hardening cock into what was almost certainly a perfect, tight, ass with just the right amount of curve and enough flesh to give Tony a good handful of each cheek. He’d groaned when he climaxed, and had washed himself clean, after, making sure there weren’t any cornbread crumbs on his chin. Then he’d simply gone to bed.

Alone.

Another lonely jerk off in the shower the next morning, instead of calling in, and he’d dressed – taking extra care to look like a proper superhero – and Stark had gone into the office, despite the queasy stomach and the aching head.

And found a small paper plate on his desk, with what looked like a scone sitting on it.

Tony frowned, looking at it for just a moment before he realized that it must have been left there by Peter. His own PA had never brought him anything – mainly because Tony didn’t encourage it. For that matter, he preferred his PA to email him his schedule each day and stay out of his way for the most part. The billionaire picked up the plate, sniffing it, suspiciously.

“Mint?”

He _hated_ mint.

Stark set the plate back down on his desk and sat down with a slightly exaggerated groan, although the bright sun coming into his office was a little too much for him to want to deal with. He turned from the view below him and back to the plate, reaching out and pulling it toward him, feeling the corner of his lip quirk in a partial smile. Peter had brought him a _scone_.

Maybe he hadn’t bombed with the younger man, after all?

He picked it up and sniffed it, again.

Maybe he’d try it, after all.

><><><><><><

“Are you doing anything interesting this weekend?”

Peter shook his head, smiling as Miss Potts finished the cruller that he’d left on her desk.

“I have some errands to run, and laundry, that kind of thing.” He had every intention of doing a patrol, as well, but he didn’t mention that, of course. May was the only person alive who knew that he was Spiderman, and that was how it was going to stay, as far as Peter was concerned. “I need to get some of those little trial sized toiletries for Wichita. Would you like me to get you anything, while I’m out?”

Pepper smiled, too. She was still feeling pretty smug about how well things seemed to go between Tony and Peter the evening, before – even though Peter hadn’t mentioned it, or Tony, that morning, yet, and Pepper didn’t want to bring it up. No sense rushing things, after all.

“That would be nice, but I’m going to need feminine items, and while I know I ask a lot of you, that isn’t something I’m going to ask you to find for me.”

Peter blushed, slightly, but his smile was genuine.

“Thanks.” His watch chimed, softly, and he glanced at it. “You have to be in the conference room in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you.”

She finished the cruller, and then took the notepad that Peter offered her when she stood up.

“Tell me again why I scheduled all of these meetings on Friday?”

“Because you’re going to be gone for three days, next week, and these are the ones that can’t wait.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, but these meetings weren’t really all that terrible. Especially with Peter making sure everything stayed on track like he was. One of the reasons that he was going to Wichita with her, after all. She was pleased that he was, too, she decided as they walked to the door of her office, with Peter politely opening it for her. They were going to be gone a few days, and Tony wasn’t going. What was the phrase? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? She’d have to make sure that she threw Peter and Tony into the same places a couple of more times that day, and then on Monday and Tuesday of the next week.

Then she and Peter were going to leave, and she could see if it really was a thing.


	7. 7

“Aren't you _tired_?”

Peter smiled, pulling a sandwich from the bag he’d picked up from the deli down the street while Pepper had been finishing up the last meeting – of her _morning_. He handed it over, and then pulled a small packet that held condiments for the sandwich, and gave that to her, as well.

“No. Not, yet, I mean.” He found her a bottle of water, and also a cola. “You’re the one doing all the work,” he reminded her. “I’m just running errands for you.”

She knew that they both knew that wasn't, really, the case, and she shook her head.

“Have you eaten, yet?”

“I ate on the way back from the deli.”

“A _real_ meal?” Pepper pressed. “Or just a granola bar, or something?”

The young man shrugged, amused at the concern. It was his job to watch out for her, after all, not the other way around.

“A couple of hotdogs.”

“Ugh.” Her expression made it clear what she thought of that. “What do I have left for today?”

“One more meeting, at three. It shouldn’t be a long one,” he added. “Just VPs to clarify what you’re going to be doing in Wichita and making sure that they know not to bring any questions or problems to Mr. Stark while you’re gone.”

Pepper frowned, midway into taking the first bite of her sandwich.

“That isn’t what I told you, is it?”

“Pretty much,” he admitted, smiling.

Huh.

“Not because he can’t be trusted to make important decisions,” she explained. “It’s _his_ company, after all. But because he has other things to worry about. Being an Avenger, and all the tech that he’s working on, all the time. Running his company and making those decisions is my job. To free him up to do what’s important to him.”

“I figured that,” he assured her. She didn’t have to explain herself to him, though. Peter knew how hard she worked to make sure the company ran smoothly. It was one of the reasons he made sure he took as much of the workload off her as he could. “I didn’t set it up with that phrasing in the emails.”

She laughed at that, and then bit into her sandwich.

“Thank you.”

“Between now and your meeting at three, you need to make time for calls. I set the reminders in your calendar so you wouldn’t forget, but it doesn’t matter what order you make them in – both parties are on the west coast, so it won’t be later for them.”

It would also give him time to take care of getting her dry cleaning out so it could be back in time for the trip, and he wanted to verify a doctor’s appointment that he’d made for her before they left.

“Thank you. And _after_ my meeting?”

“Some free time to take a breath and then work on a draft of what you want the itinerary for the meetings in Wichita to be. Remember that they are going to want one evening to show off their city and an afternoon to show off their food.” The whole reason for their trip to the rib place the evening before, but it was better to remind her, lest she forgot. “You’re touring the fabrications company, Thursday after we arrive, with Mr. Anderson, and then meeting with the execs Friday morning to discuss the pros and cons of any mergers. You could probably stretch that into a lunch, as well, and have barbeque, then.”

“Good idea.”

“Is there anything you need from me, right now?”

She nodded and opened the lower drawer to her desk.

“Would you mind, please, taking this to Tony? I borrowed it from him. Tell him thank you, and ask him if he’s going to have anything he needs from me before the weekend.”

“Of course.”

“And tell him I said thanks, again, for coming with us, last night.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Peter.”

“You’re welcome.”

He left with the book in hand, and Pepper watched, wishing she could be a fly on the wall in Tony’s office so she could hear whatever conversation the two had, but decided that if she kept dragging Peter into Tony’s office it might look suspicious, and Tony wouldn’t appreciate it if she kept fabricating little reasons for him to come to hers, now would he? She turned her attention to the sandwich, but was definitely pleased with herself as she thought of several other ways to get the two in the same room – without being too obvious.

><>><><><><

Tony was standing, looking out the window of his office when Peter knocked, gently, at the door, hoping to not startle him. The billionaire did jump, just a little, and look over his shoulder, and then turned around when he saw who it was.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Stark,” Peter said.

“You’re not.” Well, he was, technically, but not in a bad way. “Come in.”

Peter walked into the office, allowing the door to swing closed behind him. He went over to the man, surreptitiously admiring the view – and he wasn’t looking at the city.

“Miss Potts asked me to bring this book back to you.”

Stark nodded, taking the book, but only looking at Peter.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. She said for me to tell you thank you, and asked if you were going to need anything from her before the weekend.”

“No. I’m good.” He’d spent the morning trying to come up with reasons to go to Pepper’s office and maybe see Peter but nothing had come to mind that didn’t sound lame. He hadn’t gotten anything done, so far, and was annoyed with himself for it, and _worse_ , he hadn’t figured out a reason to talk to Peter. But here he was. He cast about, trying to think of something to say now that he had him there, even if the reason wasn’t one of his own. “I had a good time last night,” was what he finally decided on.

Peter smiled, nodding.

“So did I.”

“Yeah? Good.” The billionaire set the book on the desk. “I hope I didn’t say, or do, anything too out of line… in the car, I mean.”

He didn’t apologize to the help, after all, but he wasn’t above fishing a little – to see if Peter was annoyed with him. Not that he cared, he added, quickly, to himself. He just didn’t want Pepper annoyed with him, was all.

“Oh.” Peter was a little surprised at the question, and wondered if Happy had been wrong about Mr. Stark wanting him to take advantage of his inebriation the evening before. The question sounded a lot like an apology, really, more than anything. “No. It was fine. Miss Potts asked me to tell you thank you, again, for going with us.”

“She said that?”

“Yes.”

Oh. He’d kind of hoped that _Peter_ was glad that he’d been there, too, and was annoyed with himself all over again for acting like some star-struck fool. So what if he’d been thinking about the guy all night, and now all _morning_? It wasn't like he was _that_ good looking, after all. Tony looked at the younger man, searching for a flaw. Any flaw. His eyes were amazing. His hair? Perfect. Chin was just right. His nose was dumb, he finally decided. Aware that he’d allowed the silence to drag out just a little longer than was comfortable, he spoke up.

“Your nose is dumb.”

Peter frowned.

“What?”

Oh, for fucks _sake_. Did he really say that aloud? What the hell was wrong with him?

“I said, ‘thank you for the scone’. It was good.”

The frown was now even more confused, but it only made Peter more attractive as far as Tony was concerned.

“You’re welcome.”

“What is Pepper doing?”

“Eating lunch.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

Oh. So much for inviting him to lunch – which was probably a bad idea, anyway. Pepper wouldn’t like that, he was sure. Not to mention, there was probably a rule against it, somewhere.

“Right…”

“Did you need something, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked.

“What? No. Of course not. I’m a _superhero_ , right?”

Peter nodded, obviously confused – and rightfully so, Stark thought, ruefully.

“Yes. I have some errands that I need to run for Miss Potts.”

“Oh. Thanks for the book.”

“You’re welcome.”

The boy left, brushing his fingers against his nose, and Tony rolled his eyes, exasperated with himself as he flopped down in his chair.

“Fuck.”

_“Your nose is dumb?”_ FRIDAY echoed. _“What did that even mean? Was it some kind of code that I’m unfamiliar with?”_

“No.” Stark scowled. “It means that I need to find something to distract myself, before the guy decides I’m an idiot.”

_“It’s probably too late for that.”_

“Cute.”

And hopefully not true.


	8. 8

“What did he say?”

Pepper was burning with curiosity, of course, and hid it only by sheer will. She decided that the question wasn’t out of line, considering she’d sent Peter to ask if Tony had needed anything from her. That was innocent enough, right?

Peter was just back from his errand to the billionaire’s office. He’d started cleaning what little mess Pepper had made on her desk, clearing out the garbage from lunch to allow her to spread her notes and papers – as well as her tablet, as much as she needed. He shook his head.

“He said that he doesn’t need anything before the weekend, and he told me to thank you for returning the book.”

“Anything else?”

“He had a good time, last night,” Peter repeated, dutifully. He ran his fingers along his nose, a little self-consciously. “And said he was glad that he joined us.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yes.”

“He can be a nice person,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing – and not like she was trying to talk him up. “He just gives off a… dickish… vibe, sometimes.”

The word made Peter smile.

“He’s been unfailingly polite to me,” he assured his boss. He frowned, though, and his fingers went to the bridge of his nose. “Does my nose look alright?” he asked, suddenly.

She was surprised by the question, but looked at it.

“It looks fine. Did you hurt it?”

“No. It was… well, I was just _wondering_.” He rolled his eyes, annoyed and amused at the same time, but still wondering what Mr. Stark had meant by the comment. Peter didn’t think there was anything wrong with his face. “If you don’t need me for your phone calls, I’m going to go run some errands – and I’ll make sure that the drycleaners delivers your laundry directly to your apartment, to make sure that it’s ready for the trip.”

“Thank you, Peter.”

“You’re welcome.” He made sure there was a fresh cup of coffee on her desk, and then left.

He had a lot to do before he returned, and he wanted to make sure that he was back in time to help her get ready for the meeting.

><>><><><><>

“Where’s Peter?”

Pepper scowled at being interrupted by the abrupt arrival of Tony in her office – without so much as a knock. She was a little cheered by the question, though – but she hid that.

“He went to run some errands for me.”

“Huh.” Tony walked over and glanced at what she was working on, before moving to the small bar in her office and pouring himself a cup of coffee. “I guess he did mention that he was going to do some things for you.”

“That’s what a personal assistant does,” she reminded the man. “Did you need him for something?”

Such a _loaded_ question, Tony thought, forcing himself not to roll his eyes.

“I was going to see if he had time to look at some of my numbers…” Stark replied. He’d finally thought of something that was – _somewhat_ – plausible, and would probably be interesting enough to make Peter want to actually do it. “You know… the ones that he caught the error on.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You were going to let him work with you on one of your projects?”

Stark scowled.

“Not work _with_ me,” he corrected. He wasn’t that far gone, now was he? And certainly not that desperate. “Just look at some numbers and see if he could come up with some suggestions. It’s common in research to ask for a fresh perspective if you run into a wall.”

“And how many times have _you_ done it?” she asked, pointedly.

“Never. Peter’s smart enough to understand some of what I’m doing, though. He might give me an idea or two over the weekend.”

_And_ he might spend the weekend with Tony, that way. Him and Peter, alone in his workroom. He could make a move, or two, and maybe have some quiet time with the boy. Or some loud and noisy time, which was also fun.

It was Pepper’s turn to scowl. Despite the fact that she was interested in seeing Tony and Peter spend a little more time together, she wasn’t interested in it happening too quickly. She needed her assistant to be fresh and alert when they went to Wichita, and that meant looking at Tony, but nothing more, just then. Time enough for them to bond more once the trip was finished and the merger complete.

“Peter’s spending the weekend getting ready for this trip,” she reminded the man. “I want him refreshed and ready, and if you do anything to ruin that – _or_ this merger – I’ll make sure you live to regret it.”

Now Tony _did_ roll his eyes, and then he gave her an incredulous look that he’d practiced, repeatedly, in the mirror. A mixture of wounded innocence and shock that someone could ever suggest ill of himself.

“I’m not going to ruin _anything_ , Pep…” he said. Oh, but he’d love to ruin what was almost certainly a beautiful ass! He knew better than to say it, of course – or even allow his expression to change. “I was just going to let him look at my research. Nothing more. Jeeze. Why are you-“

His tirade was interrupted by Peter’s arrival into the office, through the door that Tony had left open. The young man was juggling two cardboard drink carriers, filled with personalized drinks that Pepper knew were for the VPs attending the meeting that she was getting ready for. Peter looked surprised to see Tony, and hesitated, almost imperceptibly, when he noticed him.

“Sorry it took so long,” he apologized. “The place was busy. Hello, Mr. Stark.”

He’d sent her a text, of course, to let her know where he was – and to see if she wanted anything special to drink during the meeting. It was a good way to make it as informal as possible. A necessity when dealing with people who were only going to be thinking about their weekend plans.

“Hello, Peter.” Tony decided that that particular moment wasn’t the best time to ask a favor of Pepper’s PA. He – literally – had his hands full. “If you get a moment before you leave, this afternoon, I was wondering if you’d mind stopping by my office…?”

“What? Oh. Yes. Of course. Or, if you’d rather, once I get everything set up in the conference room, I can swing by.” He glanced at Pepper, as if wondering if she was going to say what that was all about, but she didn’t. His boss just smiled, standing up, and drawing attention to herself and from Tony Stark. “Do you want your drink in here?” Peter asked, trying to focus on what he was doing so he didn’t end up spilling the drinks and making a mess of himself, and her desk.

Not to mention keeping everyone in the meeting from having their relaxing drink.

“I’ll have it in the conference room, Peter, thank you.”

The boy nodded, looking toward Tony, who understood he was waiting for an answer.

“Yes. That will do fine.”

Peter excused himself, and Tony looked at Pepper.

“What is your meeting about?”

“I’m making sure the VPs are ready for my absence, next week.”

“Anything I need to know about?”

“Not especially.”

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“Relaxing before my trip.”

“You’re not going to try barbeque, again, before hand?”

She shook her head.

“I hadn’t planned on it. Peter said that you told him you had a good time?”

Stark tried for nonchalance, and he shrugged.

“It was it a good distraction.”

Her phone chimed, drawing her attention from the conversation – although she had really been hoping that Tony was going to ask if she and Peter wanted to go out to eat with him.

“My meeting is starting without me,” she said, standing up. “Don’t forget what I said about causing a distraction for Peter,” Pepper warned her boss.

“I won’t.”

Maybe.

><><><><><><>

A knock on the door, and Peter’s head peeked in.

“Is now a good time, Mr. Stark?”

“Of course.” Tony was at his desk, with two monitors up and showing the research notes that he’d been working on – including the equation that Peter had already seen. “Come in, please – and shut the door behind you.”

There was a buzz of an electrical lock followed him as he walked over to the desk, not missing the work that was up on the displays. He tried to avoid looking at them, in case there was some annoyance left over from when Peter had pointed out the error.

“What can I do for you?” Peter asked, admiring the man behind the desk all over again, but remembering what Jeff had said about being unavailable and aloof.

“I was thinking about the discussion of my tech, last night,” Tony said. “And wondered if you had time – maybe this weekend – to give me a fresh perspective on what I’m working on…”

“You want me to look at your work?”

“Yes.” He was feeling pretty smug at just how brilliant he was. The kid looked interested – of course – and there was no way Tony was going to spend his weekend alone, now was he? The project was complicated enough that Peter would want to look it all over, and that would take a while, depending on how much he actually understood, or if Tony would have to explain it to him. Certainly they could start that evening, and not be done until it was late enough that an innocent suggestion that it was so late that Peter should just take the guest room wouldn’t be out of line. “Some of it, anyway.”

“Sure.” Peter smiled at the offer, feeling excited – and not just because it was Tony Stark asking. He loved tech. “You can send it to my tablet and I’ll look at it when I have a chance.”

Well that wasn’t expected…

“ _Or_ …” Tony countered. “You could come over, tonight, and work on it with me there to answer any questions you might have. Not to mention I’d prefer that my tech research isn’t out in the wide world until I have it perfected.”

“Oh.” Peter had plans that night – and they definitely didn’t include Tony Stark. He was going to patrol, and had already been deciding what area he was going to cover. Not to mention, he was still following

Jeff’s advice – even if he really, _really_ , wanted to see what Tony Stark’s place looked like. And his _bed_. “I can’t, this weekend,” he said. “I have some things to take care of before the trip to Wichita. Sorry.”

And he really was.

So was Tony. He stared, unable to believe that he was hearing a no. It didn’t happen Ever. But there wasn’t anything that he could do – and Peter was giving him a valid excuse.

Stupid guy. Ugh.

The billionaire shrugged, pretending it was no big deal.

“Another time, perhaps.”

“Monday?” Peter suggested. “My day is full, of course, but I could find a few hours in the evening. If that would help.”

It was all he was going to get, Tony decided. And it was better than nothing, he supposed.

“Great. Eight o’clock at my place.”

Peter did some mental math, debating how late he wanted to stay up against how much he wanted to see the tech calculations – and Tony Stark.

“That sounds fine.”

“Great.”


	9. 9

“Wait… what?”

“What?”

May looked at her nephew, incredulously.

“He asked you out?”

“No. I mean, maybe? He asked me to look at some math he was working on.”

“At _his_ place…”

“Yes.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Then what are you doing _here_?”

Peter hesitated, looking across the kitchen table at her, and then at Jeff, who had joined them for dinner. The boy hadn’t really _expected_ to be there, at all, having planned an evening of swinging through the buildings of the city at dizzying speeds, or just hanging out on a building, somewhere, watching for crime, or anything that he could help with. When it had started _raining_ , though, he’d changed his mind, deciding that patrolling could wait until the next night, or Sunday, even, when he wasn’t going to get soaked for his troubles.

“I’m playing hard to get…”

“What?” she frowned. “Why would you do that?”

She knew that Peter had a crush on Stark, after all. The man was all he talked about, sometimes. And that was something, considering he was Spider-man.

“Because that’s what Jeff said to do.”

May looked at the older man.

“Why would you say something like that?”

“Tony Stark can have anyone he wants,” Jeff pointed out. “But if he wants _Peter_ , then he should have to work for it. Peter can do better, after all.”

The boy blushed at the compliment, and May’s scowl of annoyance faded into a slightly less annoyed expression.

“What did he say when you told him no?” she asked, curiously.

“He suggested a different day.”

“Please tell you set a date.”

“Monday.”

“Good.”

“Unless something comes up, of course,” Peter added.

“Or Stark comes on too strong, or something,” Jeff added, pointing at Peter with his fork. “Then you should come up with an excuse and hold off until after you get back from Wichita.”

“Jeff…”

The man looked at May.

“Stark has plenty of one night stands. Peter deserves better than that.”

“Peter _wants_ to be a one night stand,” May replied.

They both looked at the boy, who smiled, and shrugged.

“Yeah. Kind of.”

“Well, then, he can be an _unforgettable_ one,” Jeff said, shrugging, also. “There isn’t anything wrong with making Stark work for it.”

“That’s true,” Peter agreed.

May rolled her eyes, but was secretly pleased.

“We’re going to a movie,” she told Peter. “Do you want to come with us?”

She knew that Peter had planned to go out that night – and what he’d planned on doing – but didn’t want him stuck home, alone, if he didn’t want to be.

“Thanks, but no. I have some laundry to get done.”

He’d planned on doing it, Saturday, but might as well get it out of the way. He might even get to sleep on time, that night.

><><><><><><>

“Are you listening to me?” A pause. “Tony?”

Stark jerked his attention back to Rhodes, who was scowling at him.

“What? Sorry.”

“Why did you invite me over if you’re that distracted?” his friend asked.

“Because I need a distraction,” Tony admitted. “You’re supposed to be providing it.”

“A distraction from what?”

Tony sighed, annoyed.

“Pepper has a new PA.”

“Oh? What happened to the old one?”

“She’s off having a baby. Or maybe she already _had_ it, and she’s off bonding with it. I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention. I don’t keep track of what Pepper’s PAs do.”

“Then how do you know she has a _new_ one?”

He already knew the answer, of course. She – or he – must be pretty.

“The new one is driving me crazy.”

“Oh? How?”

“He’s different.”

“Yeah? Must be good looking, if you’re this distracted.”

He certainly looked and acted distracted. Rhodes certainly hadn’t been expecting Tony to call, that evening, and had already settled into his easy chair with a pizza and a beer when his friend had called and asked if he was doing anything. Well aware that Tony never called him on a Friday night, unless something was bothering him, he’d accepted, and had showed up on the billionaire’s front step (so to speak) with his pizza in hand and a sixpack of beers that he’d been willing to share.

“He’s good looking,” Tony agreed. “But not _amazingly_ so. I mean, he’s young. And his face is perfect. He has these brown eyes that don’t seem to miss anything going on around him, and his smile-“

“But he’s only average good looking…?” Rhodes interrupted, rolling his eyes.

The guy was nuts.

“He’s smart, too,” Stark added. “He caught a mistake in one of my equations that he shouldn’t have, really. Not with just a quick glance like that. When I talked to him about it, later, it turned out that he’s a dropout from Columbia.”

“A drop out, huh?”

Tony scowled.

“Don’t say it like that. He’s not a quitter, or anything. He dropped out to be with his aunt when his uncle died. He’ll go back, again, when she’s settled.”

“If you think he’s so amazing –“ and it was obvious that he did. “Why not ask him out? Or is there a policy against it?”

“There probably is,” Tony said. “But I did ask him out.”

“Oh.”

“And he said no.”

The other man raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Stark scowled, leaning back in his chair. “He didn’t turn me down, flat, but he definitely screwed up my weekend plans.”

“Playing hard to get?”

“No. Just busy getting ready for a business trip that Pepper’s going on.” He looked at his friend. “Maybe I should play hard to get…?”

Rhodes snorted.

“You’re _not_.”

“Of course I am.”

“If it’s cute and flutters its eyes at you, you’ll drop your pants.”

That made Tony frown. Not because it was so blunt, but because maybe it was a little more true than it was false?

“Maybe he isn’t playing hard to get…” he mused. “Maybe he doesn’t want to be got?”

“Maybe he wants more than being a number?” Rhodes suggested.

Another frown.

“I’m not going to settle down.”

Especially not with an untried boy.

“I know. _Everyone_ knows.” Rhodes shrugged. “Maybe Pepper’s PA knows, too.”

Stark fell silent for a while, brooding on that and nursing the beer he was holding.

“I’m a pretty good one night stand…”

His friend smiled.

“I’m sure you are. But I’m definitely not looking for a demonstration.”

><><><><><>

“Jesus… doesn’t that hurt?”

Peter nodded, leaning back, just a little, somehow holding his side and his head at the same time.

“Yeah. A little.”

Maybe a lot.

He’d waited until Sunday night to go on patrol, since the weather had been pretty crappy Saturday, as well. The sky was clear by then, but everything was damp, and it was chilly, even for early fall. He’d finished his rounds of the northside and had been debating if he was done for the night, and was in mid-swing when he’d felt his webbing give way and he’d known, immediately, that there wasn’t much he could do. Not going as fast as he’d been going.

May handed him the icepack that she’d put together, hurriedly, when her nephew had come through the apartment window, battered and bleeding, only a few minutes before.

“What happened?” she asked, once he was out of his costume, into a pair of sweats, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and was relaxing on the couch.

“Web failed on a swing,” he replied. “I went crashing into the side of a building.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d ever done it, of course. He’d fallen plenty when he’d been younger and was learning how to use his newfound abilities. This time had been pretty painful, though, and it didn’t help that after he’d hit the side of the building, he’d plummeted almost seventy feet and landed on the roof of a different one. If he wasn’t enhanced, he knew that he’d have been killed.

“Are you alright?”

“I will be.” He closed his eyes. “Just gotta give myself a chance to heal up a bit.”

“You should probably call in, tomorrow.”

“I can’t. There’s too much to do.” He smiled. “Besides, if I call in, then I can’t go to Mr. Stark’s after work, can I?”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, and double checked the small cut on his forehead that was already looking better than it probably had when he’d picked himself up off the building to go home.

“True. But we’ll see how you look in the morning…”

Better safe than sorry, after all.


	10. 10

There was a muffin sitting on Pepper’s desk when she walked into her office Monday morning. Beside it was a cup of coffee. Closer examination proved the muffin to be blackberry and the coffee to be hot. Smiling at her luck at finding a temp PA who was not only as efficient as Peter, but was also so sweet, she sat down at her desk and pulled the little plate closer.

By the time she’d eaten the top of the muffin and had most of the first cup of coffee down, Peter walked into her office, knocking lightly to avoid startling her.

“Good morning, Miss Potts.”

He was smiling, but she noticed as he walked over to her desk that he was walking a little stiffly.

“Good morning, Peter. Are you alright?”

He nodded, and shrugged, giving her a somewhat sheepish look.

“I took a bit of a tumble, last night. It isn’t anything serious. I just got off the phone with the hangar manager, and he’s going to be ready for us Wednesday at noon.”

“Perfect.” She frowned at his stiff motions as he walked across her office and brought more coffee to freshen her cup. “Are you certain that you’re alright? Is that a _bruise_?”

He’d walked closer, and she saw a dark mark just at the edge of his hair, near his brow, when he was next to the desk.

“It is,” he confirmed, his hand automatically going to the area, and touching it, tenderly. “But, yes. I’m fine. Thank you.” He poured her coffee. “You have a video conference meeting with-“

The knock on her door interrupted him, and without waiting for a response, Tony Stark walked in, dressed in an expensive suit that was tailored perfectly to his body and holding a half-eaten muffin. The billionaire looked at Peter, first, before turning his gaze to Pepper as he walked across the room to her desk.

“Good morning.”

She was a bit surprised to see him, but she smiled at the attempt at pleasantries. It didn’t always – or often – happen on Monday mornings with him, after all.

“Good morning.”

Tony looked at her PA, again.

“Good morning, Peter.”

“Morning, Mr. Stark.”

At least he wasn’t calling him Patrick, now was he?

“I just came to remind you that we have a video meeting, this morning,” Tony told Pepper.

“Yes.” She raised a curious eyebrow at him. Not only did he never come by to remind her of anything – the reverse was usually the case, and she was the one calling him to make sure that he didn’t forget an important meeting – but he could have called, and they both knew it. “Peter was just reminding me. You’re planning on being there?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he confirmed, looking cheerful as he took a bite of his muffin. “Who are we meeting, again?”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

“Peter?”

“Orangu and Hayes. For the Matsumachu merger.”

The boy turned, walking back to the bar to return the coffee carafe, and Tony frowned, looking at Pepper.

“Why is he walking like that?”

“I asked him the same thing,” she said. “He told me that he took a tumble, last night.”

“I’m fine, though,” Peter assured the older man – and reassured Miss. Potts. He tried to walk a little less stiffly, but it must not have been too convincing, because they were both frowning by the time he made it back to the desk.

“Did you see a doctor?” Stark asked.

“I don’t need to,” he replied. “There isn’t anything broken. I just have some bruises. My aunt helped me ice it, last night.”

“He has a bruise on his head,” Pepper told Tony, pointing at the mark that she’d spotted before he’d walked into her office.

Stark leaned closer, his pretty eyes intent as he looked at Peter, and his hand coming up, automatically, to push the boy’s curls out of the way. Peter winced, and moved his head back.

“There’s a doctor here in the tower,” Tony told him. “You should go get checked out.”

“What did you hurt?” Pepper asked. “Did you land on your head?”

“No.” Peter was blushing, slightly, at being the center of the attention of the two. They both had better thing to do than worry about his head. Especially since he knew there was a meeting that was beginning to start. “I mean, I did hit my head, but my shoulder and side took the brunt of the force. Just some bruises.”

“Take your shirt off,” Pepper said, standing up and moving around her desk. “Let’s take a look.”

“What?”

She smiled at just how discombobulated the normally assured Peter Parker looked, just then, and wondered if he had a huge tattoo on his chest. Some naked woman, perhaps? Or a naked _man_?

“Let me see your shoulder, Peter,” she said. “Then we can decide if you need to go see the doctor.”

“You have a _meeting_ …”

“And it can wait a moment longer.”

“Might as well do it, Peter,” Tony suggested, trying very hard to hide the fact that he was all for Peter taking his shirt off. Injuries aside, he just wanted to get a look at the boy. Not that he was expecting much; Peter was part of the video game playing generation, after all, but it would give him some new stroke material for later. “She’s pretty good at getting her way.”

The boy rolled his eyes and unbuttoned his shirt, opening it and then taking it off.

“Oh my…”

“Wow.”

Pepper saw a large purple bruise, running along Peter’s right shoulder and part way down his upper arm. No wonder he was stiff. _Tony_ , on the other hand, hadn’t made it past the perfect chest and abs, and the fact that Peter was as chiseled as Steve Rogers, although nowhere near as bulky. No one was that perfect. He was pale, and hairless, but so pretty that Stark found himself reaching out before he realized what he was doing – and only just managed to change the direction of his hand from where it had been going to brush Peter’s chest, to the bruise, instead.

“What did you fall off of?” he asked. “A _building_?”

Peter forced a smile – and forced himself to breathe.

“Nothing so crazy,” he said, shivering just a little, and looking down at the bruise. Pepper had reached out, too, now, to run careful fingers along his shoulder. “A fire escape.”

“I definitely think you should get that looked at,” Pepper told him, firmly. “Before you do anything else, today.”

“I have a lot-“

“Tony? You’re excused from the meeting to walk Peter down to the doctor. Stay with him until he gets checked out, and then report back to me with whatever you find out.”

The billionaire was torn between annoyance and eagerness. Annoyance at being ordered around. Eagerness to do exactly what she’d told him to do. Spend time with Peter? Watching him without his shirt on for as long as possible? That was all even better than the part about missing the meeting, which he didn’t really care about, he’d just come to remind her so he could see the boy, in the first place.

“That’s really not necessary, Miss-“

“Come on, Peter,” Stark said, interrupting him. “The sooner you stop arguing and do what you’re told, the sooner you can get back to running errands.” He looked at Pepper. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

Pepper nodded, pleased with her quick thinking. Yet another way to throw the two of them together – although she did, sincerely, want Peter checked out, of course.

“Make sure you remind the doctor that we’re leaving Wednesday. I want him to sign off on Peter being healthy enough to go with me.”

“If he doesn’t go with you, he can always hang out and keep _me_ company…” Stark pointed out, his eyes suddenly just a little more intense, at the thought.

“I’m fine to go,” Peter said, speaking up, even as he was buttoning up his shirt, again.

“The only place you’re going, right now, is to see the doctor.”

Pepper ended any more arguments that he might make by shooing them both out the door. Then she picked up her muffin and coffee and headed down the hall to the conference room.

><><><><><><

With a place that had so many scientists operating out of working laboratories, doing all kinds of research, it only made sense to have an onsite medical clinic. Staffed during tower operation hours by a registered nurse and a general practitioner, the clinic on the third floor was a good idea, even if they didn’t get a lot of business. It wasn’t Tony’s idea, but he wasn’t above taking advantage of them being there to have Peter checked out – and to do a little more checking out, of his own.

“It’s a benefit,” he told the younger man as they exited the elevator on the right floor. “Even temps have full access to the medical care, here, so you’d be crazy not to take advantage of it – and even crazier to ignore Pepper’s demands.”

“It just isn’t necessary,” Peter said, allowing Stark to steer him with a hand to the small of his back. First down the hall, and then into the wide entrance that led to an airy waiting room with a couple of comfortable chairs, and a couch. The nurse was leaning against the registration desk, lazily, but he straightened up, looking excited when Tony walked into the room with Peter. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Tony said. He caught the attention of the nurse. “This is Peter Parker. He’s Pepper Potts’ personal assistant. He took a fall, last night, and is walking like a man four times his age. We’d like him checked out.”

“Of course, Mr. Stark.” The man reached for a clipboard with a few sheets of paper on them. “Fill these out, please, and I’ll tell Doctor Rivers that you’re here.”

Peter took the clipboard, and the pen that the nurse offered, and walked over to the couch and seated himself, gingerly. Tony slid into the spot beside him, easily.

“Need help?”

“Putting my name on a piece of paper?” Peter asked, trying to hide just how much he liked having Tony Stark so close to him, and maybe being a little rude in his attempt. He smiled to soften the comment a little. “I’ve got this.”

“Well, you hit your head, right?” Tony pointed out, his eyes amused, and his smile perfect. “Someone should watch you – just to make sure you spell your name right.”

Peter chuckled, and was tempted to spell it wrong, just to make the other man happy.

Jesus, he was good looking. And he _did_ smell good.


	11. 11

The clinic was empty and clearly business was slow, so it wasn’t any surprise to Peter or to Tony that the doctor appeared almost immediately. He was an older man; tall, thin, and handsome, with a head of silver hair that was perfectly cut and well groomed. He was wearing a white doctor’s lab coat with his name on it, and he smiled at both Tony and Peter when he walked over to the couch that they’d settled on, offering a hand to Tony, first.

“Mr. Stark, it’s good to meet you.”

“Thanks.” Tony shook the man’s hand, but turned the attention to Peter. “This is Peter. He took a fall, last night and needs to be checked out before Miss Potts will allow him to go with her on her business trip, Wednesday.”

“Hello, Peter,” Rivers said, also offering him his hand – which Peter shook. “What kind of fall?”

“Fire escape.”

“How high up were you?”

“Not too far,” Peter lied. He felt guilty doing it, of course, but telling the guy the truth wasn’t an option. “And I caught myself, but hit my shoulder and side – and a little on my hip.”

“And your _head_ ,” Stark added, pointing to the bruise.

The doctor was over the shock at finding Tony Stark in his little clinic, and already turning his attention to the young man, his hand coming out to brush Peter’s curls aside, gently, to get a better look at the discoloring. The action made Tony frown, and he was surprised to feel just the slightest surge of jealousy at the sight of the man touching Peter. The billionaire forced the reaction down, annoyed, but before he could say anything, River’s shrugged.

“Let’s get a better look,” he said. “Come back to my exam room.”

Tony didn’t intend to wait outside, so he followed when Rivers led Peter into a back room.

“Pepper wants me to report, personally, on his health,” he pointed out when the doctor looked at him, uncertainly.

“It’s fine,” Peter told Rivers, secretly pleased that Stark was hovering so protectively. It was kind of sweet, really, and completely unexpected. “I’m okay, though. It’s a lot of fuss for nothing.”

“Take off your shirt, Peter,” Tony said. “Show him the bruises and let him decide.”

The boy rolled his eyes, but when the doctor nodded his agreement, he took his shirt off – again – and sat on the table at Rivers’ gesture. Then he and Tony watched as River’s carefully ran his hand along the bruises, his fingertips prodding, gently, and his alert gaze watching Peter’s reactions to the touch.

“They’re pretty deep,” he said, finally. You mentioned your hip?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s take a look.”

Peter stood up and opened his pants, sliding them down enough to give Rivers – _and Tony_ – a view of some thigh and hip _and_ to answer the boxers or briefs question that Tony hadn’t known he needed an answer to until he had it.

The boy’s hip was bruised, also, although it didn’t seem too bad to Stark.

“That explains why you’re walking so stiffly,” the doctor said, leaning down to get a better look. “How badly does it hurt? On a scale of one to ten.”

“About a four. I iced it, last night.”

“Smart.”

A gentle touch, there, as well, and Peter happened to look over at Stark just in time to see the billionaire’s brow furrow. He wasn’t looking at Peter, though, he was watching the doctor. When he saw Peter’s eyes on him, he schooled his expression.

“It doesn’t hurt, much,” Peter assured him.

“No cuts?” the doctor asked, not realizing that Peter wasn’t talking to him. “No bleeding? No bones sticking out from where they shouldn’t be?”

The boy smiled, fastening his pants, again.

“No. No bleeding. No cuts. No broken bones.”

“He’s fine, then,” Rivers said – more to Tony than to Peter – as he handed the young man his shirt. “If any of the bruises get bothersome, use an icepack to dull the pain. They’ll heal on their own without any assistance from me.”

“Thanks,” Peter replied, putting his shirt on. He smiled, looking over at Tony. “See? _Perfectly healthy_.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Rovers corrected. “You’re a PA?”

“ _Pepper’s_ PA,” Tony confirmed.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea to give him the day off… To rest his hip. If he’s moving around, too much, it could aggravate the bruising a bit.”

“I can’t take the day off,” Peter protested. “I have too much to do.”

It was clear the doctor didn’t like being argued with. He gave the boy a stern look.

“Then do it sitting down. At a desk – or even better, on a couch, wrapped in a blanket and resting.” He looked at Tony. “I can keep him here, for observation, if you want?”

The billionaire shook his head, hating the idea of letting the doctor – the handsome, older, doctor who just _oozed_ authority and… dominance… - keep Peter in his company all day. He hid that as well as he could, and gave a nonchalant shrug.

“I have a couch in my office we can put him on, if that’s what you think he needs.”

“It isn’t a bad idea.” He gave Peter a look. “Do what you’re told, today, and you’ll thank me for it when you feel better, tomorrow.”

Being ganged up on like that was kind of fun. Peter had two good looking older guys telling him what to do, and he sort of liked it. Of course, the doctor wasn’t _Tony Stark_ , and Peter didn’t have the same rush of excitement looking at him as he did when he was looking at – and _being with_ – the other man, but he quelled that as much as he could and tried not to look too enthralled at the idea of lounging around Tony Stark’s office. Of course, if Pepper had a couch in _her_ office, he could have pointed out that he was her PA, and should be close at hand in case she needed him. Tony slept in his office on occasion if he’d worked late on some tech project – or Ironman project – Peter knew.

It was a better solution than being sent home. He didn’t mind the loss of a day’s wages, but he hated the idea of missing a day’s _work_ , and all that he could get done.

“I suppose I could make the calls I need to sitting on a couch as easily as being at my desk…”

“You _can_ ,” Tony assured him. He looked at the doctor. “Any other medical advice or restrictions?”

“No. Come back if it starts bothering you.”

“I will,” Peter said. “Thank you.”

“Make him do what he’s told,” Rivers said to Tony.

The man was forced to hide another smirk. Instead, he simply nodded.

“I will do so. Thank you.”

He ushered Peter out of the clinic and back to the elevator.

“I don’t really need to be coddled,” the boy told him. “I’m good to go. I could just walk slower than normal, or something.”

Stark snorted, pushing the button on the elevator and resting his hand on the small of Peter’s back, as if to keep him from running off, immediately, to get back to work the moment the doors opened on the executive floor.

“You already told the doctor that you would work from the couch,” he pointed out. “And I already told him that I would make you. Do you intend to make liars out of both of us?”

“I suppose not.”

“Good. Let’s get you settled in my office, and then when Pepper is done with her meeting, we can tell her what we found out.”

><><><><>

“What are you doing?”

Peter looked up from the tablet he was holding, his phone still at his ear. Tony had just walked into his office, with Pepper right behind him.

“What?”

“I asked you what you’re doing,” he said, moving over to the couch where he’d left Peter only ten minutes before. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

Peter shook his head.

“I’ll call you back,” he told the person on the other end of the phone call. Then he turned his full attention to Pepper – and to Tony. “I’m supposed to be working.” He corrected. “From the couch. I am.”

“You don’t look like you’re resting, at all,” Pepper pointed out. “Tony tells me that the doctor said you should take the day off.”

“He did,” Peter agreed. “But then he saw reason, and said I could work from here.”

“He said you should be wrapped in a blanket and resting,” Stark reminded the boy. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

“I have a lot to do.”

Pepper smothered a smile as she watched the two verbally wrangle, and hid it behind a fake cough. When both of them looked over at her, she cleared her throat.

“What do you have to do, today?” she asked Peter.

“I have phone calls to make and some errands to run.”

“Make your phone calls,” she told him. “From where you are right, now. Tony? Find a blanket, and wrap him up in it – and while you’re at it, confiscate his shoes, so he stays where he is until it’s time to go home.”

“Miss Potts…”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Stark said, feeling smug at getting his way and not bothering to hide it.

“What do _you_ have to do, today?” she asked the billionaire.

“I’m going to work on my suit.”

“Can it wait?”

He frowned.

“It _could_ … but-“

“Good. Then _you_ can keep an eye on Peter. And make sure he eats something healthy for lunch.”

“I don’t need a baby-sitter,” Peter objected. “I’ll-“

“I can’t-“

“You have a choice,” Pepper said, interrupting both of them. “You can go home for the day and rest there,” she told Peter. “Like the doctor said…” she smiled, to make sure he understood that she was being firm, but she wasn’t being a bitch about it. “Or you can stay here, with the restrictions that he put on you.”

Peter looked at Tony, torn between wanting to get his work done, wanting to spend time with the billionaire – but not in the capacity of being babied – and wanting to do what she told him.

“I guess I could do it, here.”

“Thank you.”

“What about me?” Stark asked, also feeling smug that Peter had capitulated, but trying not to look too eager to spend the day watching him.

“He stays here, in your office where you can keep an eye on him. I suppose I could send him down to the clinic. They could watch him, and _they_ have a couch, there, too. He could make his calls and also be out of your way.”

She was counting on Tony objecting to that, right away, and it happened as quickly as she expected.

“I’ll watch him.”

Better him than that overly handsome doctor, anyway.

“Thank you.” Pepper looked at her PA, whose expression was just a little dazed. “Make your calls, but get some rest, as well, alright? I need you healthy by the time we leave, Wednesday.”

“He’ll be good,” Tony assured her.

Peter rolled his eyes, but he shrugged, and nodded, and she saw him glance at Tony, briefly.

“I’ll be good.”


	12. 12

Peter was bored.

Bored. Bored. Bored.

The work that he could get done from Tony’s very comfortable couch took him about forty-five minutes. Most of it was making phone calls to set up the final travel plans for the trip to Wichita. To make sure the hotel reservations were laid on; a suite for Miss Potts and a room close by for himself. He’d arranged the transportation from the private airfield to the hotel – and made sure that there would be a car available for them at any time of the day.

They didn’t know exactly what their hosts would want to do, after all, in between the scheduled activities.

Now that he had everything taken care of, he didn’t have anything else to do. Mr. Stark had given him a blanket, and a pillow, and had settled him on the couch like he’d promised that he would, and was at his desk, working on what was clearly an Ironman suit – or would be when he was finished with it. Peter had been offered something to drink, which he’d accepted, and a snack, which he’d declined, and now found himself bundled on that couch with nothing to do to distract himself.

He sighed. Loudly.

Tony looked up at the sound, turning from his research to the young man on his sofa. Peter had grumbled about being wrapped in a blanket and told to stay put, but had then started working, distracting himself with phone call after phone call. Tony listened in, impressed at Peter’s calm efficiency as he set up everything for the trip that he and Pepper were taking. Aware that the boy almost certainly didn’t want to chat with him while he was working, Tony had turned his own attention to his Ironman suit research, but kept looking at Peter as the time went by, wondering if he was going to be making phone calls all day, or if he had other things that he needed to do.

“Problem?” he asked, amused at the sigh.

It was the sound of long suffering. Tony recognized it, immediately, because he made that noise all the time. Usually when Pepper was making him do something that he didn’t want to do.

“I’m done with my work, Mr. Stark.” He shrugged. “Everything that I can do from here, anyway.”

“Well, then, you’re done with your work,” Tony said, heartlessly. He had Peter all to himself for a while, and was planning on keeping it that way. “You want some lunch?”

“It’s too early for lunch,” Peter said. He hesitated, immediately thinking of a way to keep himself occupied. “Do you have those math equations that you wanted me to look over? I could do that.”

Tony frowned at that. If he did the math, here, then he wouldn’t have any reason to go to his place that evening, would he? Peter looked so hopeful, though, that the older man found himself nodding.

“I do. And you can, yes.” He stood up and walked over to the sofa, holding a tablet in his hand. “You know… you could call me _Tony_. The world wouldn’t end if you did, and I don’t like being called Mr. Stark.”

Peter was surprised by the offer, and let it show.

“You wouldn’t think it presumptuous?”

“No.” He sat down on the couch, handing over the tablet. “I’d be fine with it – in private, at least. When we’re out and about in the tower, you should probably stick with Mr. Stark – so no one else thinks that it’s alright to do it, too.”

Peter smiled at that, taking the tablet almost shyly.

“Thank you… Tony.”

Stark felt himself twitch in response to that smile, and just how fucking adorable Peter was, just then. He shrugged, trying for a nonchalance that he didn’t feel.

“You’re welcome. Now, here’s the problem that I’ve been working on. I don’t need to remind you that I don’t want it shared on your social media, or anywhere else?”

“Of course not.” Peter wasn’t offended. If he were working on something so interesting, he wouldn’t want someone to spill it before it was even ready to be established. “What are you trying to accomplish with it?”

Tony explained his work to the boy, made sure he understood what he was talking about – which only took a few minutes, since he already knew that Peter was smarter than shit. Not as smart as _he_ was, of course, but right up there. And he was young, still, with a lot of learning ahead of him. Who knew what Peter could end up doing by the time he was finished with college and settled? That was an exciting thought, really.

But was something to think about for the future. Not for now. For now, he plumped Peter’s pillow, tucked the blanket back around him – ignoring the way Peter rolled his eyes at the treatment – and then went back to his desk, reminding the boy that they were going to take a break to order lunch at noon, sharp.

Peter didn’t even answer him. He was too busy looking at the information on the tablet.

Tony smiled at that, took advantage of Peter’s distraction to enjoy the view for a moment, and then went back to his research.

><><><><><><>

“What’s he doing?”

Tony smirked.

“He’s working on a crossword puzzle.”

“Oh?” Pepper frowned. “I thought you had some ridiculously hard math for him to figure out?”

That was what Peter had been working on when Pepper had stopped by to Tony’s office to check on him right before lunch. She’d offered to order them something to eat along with the order that Peter had already set up for a lunchtime meeting that she was holding with a couple of the VPs.

“He figured it out,” Stark told her.

“Really?”

“Yes.” He lost the smirk, and allowed himself a slightly self deprecating shrug. “It surprised me, too,” hue admitted. “I was pretty sure it would keep him stumped most of the day – and into tonight. Your brilliant PA figured it out in less than an hour.”

“Wow.”

Pepper was pleased and barely bothering to hide it. Not only was Tony forced to have Peter in his office all day, but it was obvious that he was enjoying it. And was impressed by Peter. Of course, Pepper was impressed by Peter, too. Only not for his math skills.

“Yeah, wow.”

Peter had eaten lunch with Tony; both men sitting on the couch, and discussing the work Peter had been looking at as they ate. Then Tony had handed him a crossword puzzle book and a pen, and told him to take some time to relax. When he’d left to go check in with Pepper, Peter had already started working on a puzzle and hadn’t even looked up when he’d left.

“Is he mad at me?”

“No. He’s smart enough to know that you’re doing him a favor by letting him stay instead of sending him – and I think the rest is going to do him some good. When he got up to walk to the bathroom, earlier, he wasn’t moving as stiffly as he was, earlier.”

“That’s good. See if you can get him to take a nap, or something. That would be actual rest, right?”

“I’ll try,” he said, amused, and suddenly having his own private fantasy of Peter falling asleep on his arm, much like Tony had fallen asleep on the boy when they’d been in the car, the week before. “No promises.”

“How is your research going?”

“Getting there.”

><><><><>

A balled up piece of paper (with two sides of nearly worked crossword puzzles) came sailing across the room, hitting Tony right between his eyes. Startled, the billionaire looked over at the sofa, and the boy who was on it. Still bundled in the blanket, but now just leaning back against the leather of the arm, watching him with one big, brown, eye – and what was almost certainly supposed to be an innocent expression.

Tony picked up the ball of paper.

“Did you just throw this at me?”

The eye got wider, if at all possible.

“ _What_? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Stark snorted, pleased that the kid was so relaxed around him, now. He tossed the paper back at him.

“Do it again, and I’ll call HR.”

Peter smiled at the threat.

“Do what?”

“I’ll _spank_ you.”

Now it was the boy who snorted.

“Then you’ll definitely be hearing from HR.”

Which made Tony shake his head.

“Don’t you have something that you can be doing that doesn’t include annoying me?”

Peter didn’t look at all offended, or injured, at the comment.

“No. I’ve done everything there is to do…”

He couldn’t help that his voice was just a little petulant. Peter was used to being active, and he definitely wasn’t used to lounging around on the couch all day. The company was good, he had to admit. The view was nice – especially every time Tony stood up and walked toward the door, leaving on some errand or another, giving Peter a perfect view of the man’s ass.

“Do another crossword.”

Peter groaned, theatrically, and flopped backward on the sofa.

“I’m _bored_ , Tony,” he complained. “Pay attention to me.”


	13. 13

Well _that_ wasn’t going to be allowed to pass, now was it?

Tony hid his smile, got to his feet and walked over to the couch, leaning over the back of it to look down at Peter, who looked up at him.

“Do you _need_ some attention, Peter?” Tony asked, his voice low and his gaze smoldering.

Peter’s expression had been annoyed because of boredom, but he suddenly flushed, instantly catching the difference in Stark’s demeanor, and – _of course_ – interested. His intelligent brown eyes turned cheerful, and something else that Tony couldn’t read.

“I’m bored,” he repeated. “Distract me…”

The older man leaned over, sliding his hand along the back of the couch, and then down the luxurious leather, stopping close to where Peter was sprawled after his flop.

“We could do some sudoku.”

“Ugh.” Peter smiled, realizing that Tony was teasing him, now. The billionaire’s eyes were amused – and so sexy. “Not _sudoku_.” He hesitated, and reached out to touch Stark’s hand. “Something else.”

“ _Baseball_?” Tony asked, sliding his fingers along Peter’s. “You’re supposed to be _resting_.”

“I know.”

Tony released the boy’s hand and leaned down, more, so he could take hold of the blanket and pull it partially to the side, revealing Peter’s upper chest, still covered, of course, by his shirt.

“We could probably find something interesting to do,” he said, his eyes locked on Peter’s, and his fingertips running along the buttons of the shirt. “What do you think?”

“Like what?”

“FRIDAY? Lock my door.” In the silence that followed, they both heard the magnetic lock on Tony’s office door click. “Now no one will interrupt us,” he said, unbuttoning the top button of Peter’s shirt. “It’s just you and me.”

“And _FRIDAY_.”

“And FRIDAY. But she’s not interested in what we do.” He unbuttoned another button, still one-handed, and now he was beginning to see skin.

“What are we going to do?” Peter asked, breathlessly. “Did you have something in mind?”

I could find you a _book_ to read.”

The boy rolled his eyes, well aware that Tony was the one playing hard to get, now, and he thought it was great. The interest was there, he could tell, but they were in his office in the middle of the day, and despite the locked door, they could be interrupted at any time. They clearly weren’t going to strip each other down and have anything too physical happen. He smiled, reaching out and catching Tony’s hand before another button could open, and allowing himself to look interested.

“What _kind_ of book?”

Tony was entranced by the playfulness in Peter’s expression. He was trying to hold back, well aware that the middle of the day in his office wasn’t exactly the best place for a tryst. It was a good place to have some gentle fun, though, and maybe move things further along for later. He was also trying to get a gauge of what Peter was interested in, and hadn’t heard any objection to the spanking comment, and was definitely catching a playful brat vibe from the boy. Which was fine with Tony, since he could do a daddy dom pretty easily, Especially with someone like Peter.

“The one about the brat who gets a spanking when he annoys daddy…” Tony said, freeing his hand from Peter’s and moving to unbutton the next one down. “Hold still.”

Peter did as he was told, watching Tony’s handsome face and expressive eyes as the man finished unbuttoning his shirt.

“He wouldn’t spank him _hard_ , though, right?”

“Just enough to get his attention,” Tony confirmed, accepting the limitations that Peter had just placed on him. He slid his hand along the younger man’s side, fingers carefully staying away from the bruises, but touching the firm muscles as he ran his hand up, now, to palm his chest, thumb brushing a nipple and making it hard, immediately. “Enough to remind him who’s the boss.”

“Miss Potts?”

Tony was startled, and laughed. A true, genuine sound that made _Peter_ smile, too.

“It’s my name on the _building_ , baby,” he reminded the boy.

He leaned over, completely, now, and brushed a kiss against Peter’s forehead, and then his eyes. First one, and then the other. He felt Peter’s hand come up to his arm, holding him, but not trying to stop him, and Tony kissed him. The sensation of his lips brushing against Peter’s was as perfect as he’d known it was going to be, and Peter made a sound that was a cross between a moan and a groan.

When they separated, the back of the couch still between them, Peter smiled up at him.

“That was nice.”

“Yes.” He brushed a finger along Peter’s nose. Maybe it wasn’t such a dumb nose, after all. “Should I get you a book to read?”

“No.”

“Pepper wants you to sleep. She told me that she’s worried that you’re not getting rest, like the doctor said you should.”

“I’m not _sleepy_.” After that kiss? He definitely wasn’t sleepy. All kinds of parts of him were wide awake, now. “Kiss me again, Tony.”

“No.” He tapped Peter on the nose, his eyes amused, but his voice stern. “You’re going to take a nap.”

“But-“

“Do I need to remind you who the boss is?”

Peter pouted, and Tony hid the fact that it was adorable.

“I can’t sleep in the middle of the day.”

“You haven’t even _tried_ ,” Stark pointed out. He moved to come around to the other side of the sofa, and pulled Peter into a sitting position before sliding into the spot that would allow the boy to lean against him. Putting an arm around him was easy enough, and he guided Peter’s head down to rest on his shoulder as he adjusted the blanket to get his hands under it. “Just like that. Now close your eyes…”

Peter sighed, but did as he was told.

“It’s not going to make me fall asleep,” he said, stubbornly.

“It’s distracting you from being bored, though, isn’t it?”

“True.”

“Good.” Tony turned his head and brushed another kiss against Peter’s cheek. “You can thank me, later. Tonight. When you come to my place.”

Peter smiled, and allowed himself to melt against the older man. The position wasn’t _horrible_ , after all, and he was right where he’d fantasized about being.

“Alright.”

“Right after I punish you for arguing with me.”

He opened his eyes.

“What?”

“Don’t move,” The billionaire reminded him, smirking. His hand slid under the back of Peter’s shirt, even while he held him, and caressed him, lightly, relaxing him, and soothing him. He pressed his lips against Peter’s ear. “Go to sleep, honey,” he murmured. “We’ll discuss it, more, later.”

Peter closed his eyes, again, wondering how Tony Stark could make him so calm with a touch and a few gentle words. The man wasn’t the most restive of people, after all, and a promise that he was going to be punished definitely wasn’t something that should make him relax. But it did, and he did. He trembled, slightly, but Tony hugged him, and eventually Peter did manage to doze off in his arms.

><><><><><><

“How do you feel?”

Peter smiled, able to be completely honest with Pepper when he replied.

“I’m good.”

She didn’t look completely convinced, but he really did feel good. It had been a long time since he’d taken a nap in the middle of the day, and he’d woken up feeling refreshed and cheerful. It hadn’t hurt that Tony Stark was the one who woke him. Crouched down next to the couch – not still holding him, but so close that the first thing Peter saw when he opened his eyes were Tony’s. He’d brushed Peter’s hair back, lightly, and told him that it was getting close to quitting time, and that Pepper had been asking about him.

Peter had yawn, stretched, and gotten up, buttoning up his shirt with neither man mentioning how it had become open. Then he’d tucked it in, slipped his feet into his shoes, and had walked down to Miss Potts’ office to check in with her.

“You slept, Tony said?”

The boy glanced over at Stark, who had walked with him, but hadn’t said a word.

“I did,” he assured her.

“You don’t seem to be limping, as much.”

“No. I feel good, thank you. I’m sorry about all the fuss. I din-“

“It isn’t any fuss,” Pepper said, smiling. Not only because he really did look much better than he had, earlier. He looked well enough that there wouldn’t be any issue with the trip to Wichita, and it looked like he and Tony were much more comfortable with each other. “But, tomorrow, it’s back to nose to the grindstone so we can hammer out any last minute details about Wichita.”

Peter nodded.

“Everything is actually laid on and ready to go,” he assured her. “I made all of the arrangements, this morning.”

“Then I’m going to go home. I’ll see you both, tomorrow.”

She shooed them out of her office, telling Peter to make sure he took care of himself, that evening, and Tony walked down the hallway with the boy.

“ _I’m_ going to take care of you, tonight,” he told the younger man, a definite gleam in his eyes as he looked at Peter.

Peter nodded, feeling an ache go through him that had nothing to do with any bruises.

“When do you want me to come?”

Stark smiled.

“Seven-fifteen,” he replied. “But I expect you to arrive at my apartment at _seven_.”


	14. 14

The place was impressive – and a little imposing, even to a confident guy like Peter. He looked around the lobby of Tony Stark’s apartment building, noting that there was a high-end coffee shop entrance to one side, and a concierge desk to the other. There were a few comfortable chairs, a leather sofa, and even a gas fireplace that wasn’t lit, just then. But definitely gave the place a quality ambience that offset the fact that it was expensive marble and brass for the most part.

Peter thanked the man who held the door for him and looked around, just long enough to take everything in at a glance and then find the elevator. He walked over – there were three to choose from – and waited, impatiently, for them to open.

He’d gone home after work, but May hadn’t been there. A note on the fridge told him that she was out with Jef. He knew that she knew he’d planned to go to Mr. Stark’s that night, so she didn’t feel guilty for abandoning him in favor of an evening of dinner and dancing. Peter had made himself a quick meal of a sandwich and some soup, and had gone to take a shower. As he’d washed, he’d debated just what he wanted to wear. A suit? Like it was a real date? Peter was well aware that it wasn’t, really, a date that he was going to. Tony was interested in him, and he was absolutely interested in Tony, but this was more a physical thing than any real wine and dining, and so he probably didn’t need to dress to impress.

He decided on jeans and a nice shirt. It had been good enough for dinner at the barbeque place, after all, and should be fine. Besides, if things went well, he didn’t plan to be in them all that long, anyway. That particular thought made him excited. His active imagination had no problem picturing Tony naked and above him. Peter wasn’t really all that promiscuous, but he wasn’t a virgin, and Tony Stark was definitely a catch – even if it was for a one-night stand, or a few days’ fun.

The elevator dinged, and then the doors opened, and Peter walked in, hitting the button for the penthouse, and smiling. He wondered what Tony had in mind for the evening.

><><><><><>

_“Peter just entered the lobby.”_

Tony looked at his watch, and then down at himself. He was wearing a pair of boxers, and nothing else.

“What’s he wearing, FRIDAY?” he asked his AI.

He wanted to match whatever Peter had chosen. If the boy was dressed up, then Tony would take care to put on a suit, as well. If he was _naked_ , well that was fine, too, now wasn’t it?

_“Jeans and a button down.”_

A display in the bedroom turned on, and showed security footage of the lobby, with Peter crossing the large area, looking around but clearly heading for the elevator. Tony made an approving noise, and went to find a pair of jeans, too.

><><><><><>

The PH level opened into a small, ornate foyer. There were only two doors leading off to that; one was plain and had an A on a neat brass plaque, and the other was decorated in flowers all around the door, and a welcome mat that showed cat prints and advised that the person entering the place was subject to being searched by an attack cat.

Peter hadn’t, actually, been told which PH apartment was Tony’s, but it wasn’t so hard to guess. He knocked on the door to A, and looked over at the welcome mat, again, wondering how big the attack cat was. The door opened before he had a chance to think too hard, and Tony was suddenly standing in front of him, looking amazing in jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of thick socks, rather than shoes.

He smelled amazing.

“Right on time,” Tony said, smiling. Jesus, he was so delicious. “Come in.”

He stood aside and let Peter walk in, but was close enough that the boy walked right up against his body as he did. Tony reached a hand out and brushed his palm against Peter’s hip as Peter walked into his apartment.

“I had a bit of trouble trying to figure out which apartment was yours,” Peter told him, keeping his expression serious. “The flowers on the door made it a little harder, but I couldn’t remember you mentioning a _cat_ …”

Tony shook his head, amused, as he closed the door behind them. He loved the boy’s cheek.

“The neighbor is a little old lady with a fat Siamese cat that she spoils, outrageously.”

“Yeah? Do you guys go play bingo, together?”

“Every other Monday.” He gestured for Peter to move over the couch, watching as the younger man looked around his apartment. “Are you hungry?”

“No. Thanks. I had dinner.”

“Ready for _dessert_?”

Peter smiled, and he sat down on the couch, leaving room on either side of him for Tony.

“We should have a discussion on expectations, first.”

The billionaire rolled his eyes, but he sat down beside Peter, his knee tucked under him and his body turned toward Peter. The boy was so practical, but he supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised by that. A good PA was organized and hated surprises. Peter didn’t intend to always be a PA, Tony knew, but he was pretty good at it.

“I suppose it isn’t a terrible idea,” he admitted. “You go, first.”

“I’m not going to do anything that loses my job with Miss Potts,” Peter told him. “I like working for her, and she needs me, right now. I looked in the employee handbook, and there isn’t anything in there that says I can’t have sex with you – but it does say no inappropriate touching, actions, or comments at work.”

“So no sex at work.”

“Right.” He hesitated. “Presuming you wanted anything beyond this evening, that is.”

“We’ll see how the night goes,” Stark replied, fairly certain there weren’t going to be any complaints from either of them on that score. “What else?”

“If we have sex, we use condoms.”

“I’m not going to get you pregnant and leave you to raise the baby,” Tony pointed out.

“You’re also the _town bicycle_ ,” Peter replied. He didn’t sound disgusted by the idea of Tony having many partners, and he wasn’t being judgmental, Tony decided. “I want my ride, but I don’t want to catch anything.”

“Fair enough.”

“Other than that,” Peter said, shrugging. “I’m not into bondage, or a lot of pain, piercing, or being degraded. Treat me _right_.”

“Anything else goes?”

“Yes. If I don’t like something you’re doing, I’ll safe word out. That word is cantaloupe, just so you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Peter nodded.

“What about you?”

Had he ever started a sexual encounter with this kind of conversation? Tony couldn’t remember a time that he had. It was crazy – and yet, it made sense, too. The condom thing wasn’t a dealbreaker since Stark was actually pretty careful with female lovers. The last thing he wanted was to knock someone up and end up with child support payments for eighteen year – or have to deal with the resulting child. He wasn’t so careful with males, though, but it had been a while for him with one, and he was tested regularly.

Just to be sure.

“Well,” he said, leaning back just a little. “I am a huge fan of younger guys being under me doing anything that I tell them to do. I’m going to use you in every way I see fit, within the boundaries you just set, and I don’t want you peeing on me. You can call me daddy, or master, or anything that you want and I’ll work that into whatever we’re doing, but I’m not going to buy you a house, or a car, or a watch – and I’m not going to further your career at Stark Industries just because I’m sleeping with you.”

Peter smiled at that.

“I don’t _need_ you to buy me anything,” he reminded the man. Tony knew that he had money enough to be comfortable. “And I already _have_ the best job at Stark Industries. I know everything that is going on, and I tell Miss Potts what to do all day. Since she’s known to tell _you_ what to do, that kind of makes me the boss around there, doesn’t it?”

Tony frowned, but then shrugged, and looked at his watch.

“Are we done with the expectations discussion?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because it’s seven-fourteen, and we’re running a little behind schedule.” He leaned in and his lips caught Peter’s in a hungry kiss, his tongue immediately demanding entrance into the boy’s mouth, and Peter obliging with a soft moan of surprise and eagerness. A sound that made Tony’s blood surge south. He bit Peter’s lower lip, carefully, as he finally broke the kiss, and then ran his tongue along the spot before catching it in his teeth, once more, and nibbling on it for a moment, in no hurry, despite the earlier comment. Then he released him. “Get naked for me, Peter.”


	15. 15

“I hope that wasn’t it for foreplay,” Peter said, smiling, as he forced himself to pull away from Tony’s bubble, and get to his feet. “Because the buildup has been amazing, and I’m definitely expecting more.”

“There’s more,” Stark assured him. “Take your time, though…”

Peter unbuttoned his shirt, watching Tony, who was simply sitting on the sofa, watching. He tried to get an idea of what the man was thinking – and what he was planning to do – while he pulled his shirt off, and then kicked off his shoes and reached for the button on his jeans.

Excited at the thought of stripping in front of Tony, Peter kept watching him as he dropped his pants and briefs, and stepped out of them, but Tony’s eyes were on Peter’s body, now. As Peter watched, the older man’s gaze went to Peter’s chest, and then stomach, and then lower, still. There wasn’t any change in his expression, but he sat up, a little, and gestured at him.

“Come here.”

Peter did as he was told, and stopped in front of Tony, feeling just a little vulnerable since he was naked and Tony was still fully dressed. He tensed, sightly, when the other man reached out and ran a fingertip along his thigh.

“Tony…”

“Be patient,” Stark murmured. “It’s going to happen.”

He pulled Peter down onto the sofa, and then somewhat on his lap. Peter started to shift, wanting to straddle the older man’s hips, but Tony had another idea, completely, and he pulled the boy over his lap, belly down and ass up. Tony’s palm slid along Peter’s buttock, cupping a handful of flesh and kneading it, gently.

Peter made a soft noise of approval at the contact, and pressed his rear up against that caress. And was shocked when Tony’s hand came down on his ass cheek with a smacking noise. The blow didn’t hurt nearly as much as it surprised him, and Peter writhed, a little.

“Hey!”

He couldn’t see the billionaire’s face, but he could hear the amusement in his voice when he spoke, next.

“There’s still the minor matter of your punishment for being a brat, earlier,” Tony reminded him, bringing his hand down, again. He was being careful to cup his hand, so the blow made a loud smacking noise, but there was very little surface area actually coming into contact with Peter’s bare skin, so very little pain. “You argued with me, remember?” he asked, smiling at finding himself growing hard under Peter’s writhing. He brought his other hand to Peter’s back, to hold him in place. “You can’t argue with daddy, baby. That’s what gets bad boys a spanking.”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Peter whined, arching against his hand and then wriggling, again, when another ‘blow’ landed. He’d never whined in his life, but the roleplay was exciting, and the thought of being held down and spanked was as erotic as anything that he’d ever read, or watched. Especially considering that Tony could never actually have _forced_ Peter into allowing any of it, and that made it that much more stimulating. “Please…”

“Three more swats,” Tony crooned, bringing his hand down, again. “You can handle that for daddy, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

Peter trembled, bracing himself and trying to anticipate the next blow, but Tony didn’t give him a chance to figure out any pattern. He counted to ten before the hand came down, again, and this time Peter jumped a little, making Tony hesitate.

“Did that hurt?”

“No. Sorry. It just surprised me.”

Tony caressed Peter’s rear, which was turning a soft red, despite the man using the gentlest of blows. The boy’s skin was pale, after all.

“Poor baby…” he murmured, swatting him, again, even as he spoke, making Peter writhe, once more. “You’re being so good, though. Taking your punishment so well…”

Tony’s hand roamed Peter’s ass, now, and slid along his crack, making Peter groan and part his knees as much as he could, opening his legs to give Tony access to even more of him. The older man’s hand found Peter’s balls, and he fondled them for a moment. He could feel Peter’s erection against his thigh, and he smiled as he made the final swat to the already red buttock. He might have felt guilty for causing him even the little amount of pain that he was, if not for the evidence that the boy was enjoying it.

He pulled Peter upright, then, and turned him around. The younger man’s face was red from being in the position that he’d been in, but there weren’t any tears in those beautiful brown eyes. Tony kissed Peter, tenderly, and felt the boy open his mouth, automatically, to allow Tony’s tongue access. An act that was rewarded by Tony taking a double handful of Peter’s ass and pulling the younger man even closer, allowing him to feel just how aroused Tony already was, as well.

“You’re going to suck my cock,” he told the boy, breaking the kiss.

Peter leaned forward and pressed kisses of his own against Tony’s bare neck, licking the skin there and taking a taste of the man.

“I thought the punishment was over…?” he murmured.

Tony smiled, swatting Peter’s ass, playfully, pleased at the remark – and yet another indication that his partner was enjoying himself, too.

“It is,” he replied. “Sucking me is your reward for taking it so well.”

Peter chuckled, and then pushed himself away, sliding out of Tony’s grasp and down to the floor. He reached for Tony’s jeans, and palmed the growing bulge under the denim, amused at the fact that his mouth was watering.

“Lift up,” he told him, trying to get the unfasted jeans down, eager to see Tony Stark naked, now that he was so close. When Stark obliged, Peter pulled his jeans and his boxers down, and then off, pushing them to the side and nudging Tony’s knees apart to put himself between them – and get closer to the throbbing cock that was already aroused and waiting for the attention Peter was going to give it. “Nice…”

It was big, and thick, and when Peter wrapped his fingers around the shaft, it felt like silk wrapped over a hard iron rod. A warm rod of iron, he amended, smiling up at Tony, who smiled back and ran his fingers through Peter’s hair, his eyes dark with lust. The hand clenched, catching Peter’s curls.

“Don’t tease, baby,” he chided. “That’s _my_ prerogative. Get to work. Make me hard.”

Peter lowered his head, willingly, opening his mouth to take Tony’s cock into it. His tongue slid along the head, teasing the tip, lapping his own drool from the shaft and then taking him in as deep as he could without gagging. He sucked hard, his tongue working the underside of the head, listening to Tony’s breathing, and the little noises that he made as he played with him, catching the cues that told him what the other man liked more and what really made him tense.

The older man’s hips were moving in rhythm to Peter’s motions by the time Tony finally used that handful of hair to pull him back. By then he was harder than he could ever remember being, and his cock was dribbling precum down his shaft. Peter looked up at him, his eyes bright with pride at just how ready Tony was.

“I could do that all night,” he admitted, his chin sheened with saliva.

“You’ll have a chance to, sometime,” Tony told him, pulling him back up and rising to his feet as well. “Not tonight, though. We’re not even going to make it to the bedroom, baby,” he added. “I’m going to fuck you right here.”

He turned the boy around, pushing him into position so that Peter was facing away from him, with his upper body draped over the back of the sofa and his knees were where Tony had been sitting. The older man nudged them wide apart, and slid his fingers along Peter’s crack, again, this time a fingertip finding his tight entrance. Peter moaned as Tony forced himself in, just a little, and Stark leaned over him, using his greater weight to pin Peter in place.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked, teeth finding Peter’s earlobe.

“You.”

“Hold still,” Tony ordered, pleased at the response. “Don’t you dare move. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Daddy or master,” Tony chided, swatting Peter’s ass hard enough to make the boy jump. “Decide and _use_ it.”

“Yes, _daddy_ …” Peter whimpered, arching back. “Please, daddy…”

Tony nudged his legs even more apart, making himself plenty of room, and then lowered himself to the floor. He leaned forward, pressing several butterfly kisses against Peter’s lower back, and then his buttocks, licking his tongue over the red mark from the last swat. His hands parted Peter’s ass cheeks, revealing the tight hole and Tony felt his cock drool more precum.

“You’re perfect, baby,” he murmured, kissing each cheek and then sliding his tongue along the boy’s crack and nudging it against Peter’s hole.

Peter moaned, and Tony took hold of the boy’s hips as he started working him. His tongue was delving into his entrance as much as he could get it, and when he’d soaked him well enough, it was Tony’s finger that was suddenly sliding into Peter, making the younger man groan and press back against the invasion.

“Daddy… please…”

The sound was intoxicating, and Tony was no stranger to that sensation, now was he? He stopped only long enough to fetch lube and a condom, and with his hand now slick, he started on his hole, again, now sliding two fingers in to get him ready. To prepare him for what was to come. To loosen those tight muscles that were resisting one moment and trying to hold him in the next. Peter was making the most amazing noises by then, rocking back against Tony’s fingers with each movement. The billionaire pulled out, and reached for the condom, rolling it on with practiced ease and slathering his cock with more lube – just to make sure.

Then his hand went between Peter’s legs to find his cock. It was ramrod stiff, and Tony was surprised at just how large it was. Peter was rutting against the back of the sofa, but the slick leather wasn’t giving him much friction. He gasped when Tony wrapped his fingers around him from behind and stroked him, and Stark felt him tense, jerk, hard and then climax.

“That’s it, baby,” Tony crooned, stroking Peter as he spasmed, his cock jerking with each rope of cum that soaked Tony’s hand – and the leather that Peter was leaning against. “Keep it up, Peter. Make me messy…”

Peter groaned in his completion, and Tony let him go, shifting once more, and now nudging the head of his cock against the boy’s still tight hole. One hand guiding his cock into position and the other coming up to hold Peter’s shoulder to give him some leverage, Tony waited until Peter’s body relaxed in the aftermath of his climax and then pressed himself into him with a series of sharp thrusts that made the boy moan, again, and took Tony’s breath away.

“God…”

“ _Daddy_ ,” Tony corrected, whispering in his ear as he pulled out and pushed himself right back in. “That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well…” he was working himself up, too, of course, and now had both hands on Peter’s shoulders from behind, forcing the boy to be still while he slammed into him, repeatedly. Forcing him to take him. Enjoying his dominating role in their play and driving closer to his release with each hard thrust.

Peter climaxed, again, untouched, and the sound of the boy’s moans, and the tensing of his body around Tony set him off, as well. Stark forced himself deep, a final thrust that left him buried and he came with a wave of pleasure that actually made things go dark around him for just a moment. He clung to Peter for support as he emptied his balls into the condom, wishing that he was filling the boy, instead, but enjoying the sensation, nonetheless.

Peter collapsed under him, his weight forward and resting on the back of the sofa, head hanging, slightly. Tony pulled his head around to kiss him as he slid out of him. The younger man’s face was red, and he was sheened with sweat, but he was so sexy that Tony felt himself twitch in response.

“That was so good…” Peter said, sounding satiated. “I knew it would be.”

Tony chuckled, peppering his cheek and lips with kisses.

“Let’s go into the bedroom,” he suggested. “I’ll show you what I can do for an encore.”


	17. 17

When Peter walked into Miss Potts’ office the next morning to check in with her, she was munching on a blueberry muffin, sipping a cup of fresh coffee, and thumbing through her tablet. She looked up at his arrival, but frowned, slightly, when he walked over to her desk.

“Are you _still_ sore?” she asked. “Do you need another day of rest?”

Peter smiled, looking cheerful enough that she lost the frown.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just a little stiff.”

It had _nothing_ to do with the bruises or his fall, either. The bruises were already turning yellow and didn’t hurt, thanks to his enhanced healing capabilities. He was aching just a little from how very well Tony had used him the night before. It was the best of all aches and he was absolutely fine with it.

They’d gone into Tony’s bedroom for round two – or the _encore_ , as Tony had called it – and this time it had been all about Peter, at least the first hour, or so. Tony Stark was adept at pleasuring his bedmates, Peter soon learned, and with his initial ardor now cooled by the activities on the couch, the older man had turned his full attentions to Peter, and seeing just how many times he could suck the boy off. In between those climaxes, he’d spent plenty of time with his hands and mouth roaming the rest of Peter’s body, as well, and while there was only a single bit mark (at the base of Peter’s penis) the younger man was feeling like a pile of jelly by the time Tony parted his legs and slid himself back into him, taking his own pleasure with lazy thrusts, to begin with, and then much more force that had eventually left them both sprawled on the bed, catching their breath.

Tony had pulled him into the shower and washed him with loving care and they’d gone to bed, falling asleep naked, with Tony holding Peter’s smaller body against his own, possessively.

Around two in the morning, Peter had woken, and slid himself out of the older man’s embrace, quietly. He found his clothes in the dark, easily, and dressed before walking over to the bed, and settling on the edge, closest to where Tony was still sleeping. A gentle caress of fingertips along the line of facial hair on the billionaire’s jaw and cheek made Tony open his eyes, and he stretched, looking up at the boy.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sleepily. He caught Peter’s hand, bringing it to his lips. “Come back to bed.”

“I can’t,” the boy had said, smiling and admiring the sight of a sleepy Tony Stark laying naked in the bed. “I need to go home.”

“Stay with me, baby… I’ll take you home, later.”

Peter leaned over to kiss him and Tony had caught hold of his sides and pulled him down on top of him, with only the blankets separating the two. The younger man rested his cheek on Tony’s chest, and melted into the embrace for a moment, simply enjoying the touch of the older man.

The incredibly sexy older man.

“If I stay, I won’t get any sleep,” he pointed out. “But I had a very good time.”

“So did I,” Tony had agreed. The roleplay was over, now, and Peter was once more his own man, making his own decisions. “Are we going to do it, again?”

“Do you want to?”

“M-hmmm… Tonight?”

“No. I’m not going to Wichita without any rest the night before. When I get home…?”

“That’s _forever_.”

Peter had smiled at that, and he raised his head to kiss Tony.

“It’ll just seem like it. A few days won’t kill you.”

“I could arrange to come to Wichita, too…” he suggested, his hand caressing Peter’s back, through his shirt, and sliding along the denim-clad rear.

“Don’t even _think_ about it,” Peter had replied. “I’ll have to make all kinds of changes to the hotel reservations, and make calls to everyone involved – and I wouldn’t be able to concentrate like I need to while I’m there if you’re there, too. Not to mention, you don’t have a clue what the meetings are about.”

“Ugh…” Tony pretended to pout, and then he’d frowned, because the boy had been right about one thing. He really _was_ kind of the one who told everyone what to do. Maybe PA _was_ the best job at SI? “When you get home, then.”

“It’s a date.”

The billionaire had nodded and hugged Peter close for another long moment, just savoring the contact.

“I suppose we could call it that.”

Peter had relaxed a few more moments in his arms, and had then left, with Tony telling his AI to order him an UBER to make sure he got home, safe. The older man had fallen back to sleep before Peter had let himself out of the apartment. He’d gone home, smiled at the note May had left him about not waking her up as he was doing his walk of shame (fingers crossed!) and he’d gone to bed, falling asleep and not waking until his alarm went off.

As he dressed, he’d found that he ached a bit, and that made him stretch and smile, almost cheerfully. Tony Stark was just as good in bed as Peter had always fantasized that he would be. He’d eaten cereal for breakfast before going down to the bakery. Jef and May had both been busy at various pastry making responsibilities, and Peter had simply confirmed that he’d had a very good night, and that, no, his bruises were hurting too much. Then he’d paid for a couple of blueberry muffins – one for Miss Potts and one for Tony – and munched on a maple bar as he headed for the train.

“Are you sure?” Pepper asked. “I want you in top condition, tomorrow.”

“I’m great,” he confirmed. “You only have a couple of meetings, today. One at nine, and another at three-thirty. Lunch is whatever you want me to bring you, unless you want to go outside and get some fresh air and find your own, and then I laid out the complete itinerary for the trip on your tablet’s calendar for your approval.”

“Thank you, Peter.”

Before he could reply, Tony walked into the office, munching on a muffin, as well. He looked relaxed and somewhat chipper, wearing an expensive suit – as usual – but not the normal early morning frown that he normally had until his first couple of cups of coffee.

“Good morning, Pepper. Patrick.”

Peter turned his head, rolling his eyes so Pepper could see it, but Stark couldn’t. She smiled, realizing that her boss wasn’t being an ass to the younger man, he was teasing him. Her eyes narrowed, slightly. Or _flirting_ with him, maybe?

“If you want to keep getting breakfast, you might try a little harder to remember Peter’s _name_ ,” she suggested.

Stark shrugged.

“Maybe.” He took a bite of the muffin. “When do you leave, tomorrow?”

“The jet is scheduled for wheels up at noon,” Peter replied, answering since he knew Miss Potts didn’t know. “I have Happy coming to pick Miss Potts up from her place at 11:00.”

Pepper beamed at that, because she was taking the entire day off, and that meant that she could sleep in, if she wanted.

“Is he picking you up, too?” Tony asked.

“Yes. Before he goes to get Miss Potts.”

That way he was available to help her carry her luggage down.

“When will you be back?”

“Are you writing a book?” Pepper asked. He was never that curious about her trips. “Or plotting mischief for while I’m gone?”

Stark’s eyes grew innocent.

“I can’t be interested?”

“You could,” she said. “But it makes me suspicious when you are.”

“Maybe I’m throwing you a welcome home party,” Tony said. “Or a Bon Voyage one.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Go find something to do, Tony,” she said, shooing him out of her office. “I have a meeting, soon.”

“What are _you_ working on?” The older man asked Peter.

“The carnival. I’m hoping to find some famous guests to man the dunk tank, so I want to make some phone calls.”

Peter Parker would have very little chance of lining up celebrities to volunteer for such things – he’d be lucky to manage to get past their own PA’s, really. But being able to use Pepper’s name would get him the chance to ask – and to point out that it was for a good cause.

“I imagine the opportunity to dunk _Tony Stark_ would open a few wallets,” she suggested, looking at Tony, pointedly.

The billionaire scowled.

“No.”

“That _would_ be incredible,” Peter said, smiling at just how quickly he’d declined the honor. “But I’ll see if I can find people who are actually _famous_ , first.”

Pepper snorted her amusement at that, and Peter smiled, handing her a napkin when pieces of the bite of blueberry muffin went spraying inelegantly onto the desk.

“Cute,” Tony said, not quite as annoyed as he might be, but trying to hide it. He looked at his CEO. “Can I borrow your PA for a minute?”

“Are you going to volunteer for the dunk tank at the carnival?” she asked.

Which meant that she was all for the idea, and thought that it was a good one. He stifled a curse at the thought, but he shrugged.

“I’ll let him pitch the idea to me.”

“Pitch away, Peter,” Pepper told the young man, cheerfully. She loved it when someone knocked Tony’s ego down a few pegs. Especially when that someone did it so nonchalantly, clearing willing to give as good as he got with Tony. “I’m going to find my own lunch, so you’re free to take care of whatever you need to do to get the carnival going, and to get your own scheduled cleared up for the trip.”

“Thank you,” Peter told her. “Call me if you need me, though.”

She had his phone number, after, for just that reason. Pepper watched the two leave her office, and then turned back to what she’d been doing.

><><><><><>

“You’re such a little shit…”

Peter allowed his eyes to widen in shock and dismay.

“Me? What did I do?”

“You know I’m going to have to do that stupid dunk tank thing, now, right?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Peter pointed out as he walked with Tony toward the billionaire’s office. “Miss Potts-“

“Was minding her own business until you mentioned the need for famous people right in front of her. Don’t play _innocent_ with me, Peter. I know-“

“You mean _Patrick_?”

Tony smirked, opening the door to his office and holding it so Peter could walk through, first. He could tell that Peter’s feelings weren’t hurt – and he’d never have been able to tolerate him in the first place if the boy was that sensitive.

“When does your flight come back, Saturday?” he asked, changing the subject.

“We’re scheduled back at 6pm. But that’s only if we don’t get held up doing something that morning.”

“I’ll come get you.”

Peter smiled at the offer, but he shrugged.

“I might not be very good company,” the boy told him. “It’ll depend on how the day goes. Do you really want to deal with me being tired and grumpy?”

“Not really,” Tony admitted, sitting his left cheek on his desk and forcing himself to not reach out and pull Peter into his arms, then and there. “But I don’t want to gamble on missing time with you if you’re in a great mood, and horny.”

“We’ll have to swing by my place so I can drop my luggage off.”

“That’s fine.”

“You’ll have to help me carry it up to the apartment.”

“I can do that.”

Maybe.

“If my aunt is home, she’s going to want to meet you. You can’t be a dick to her.”

“I won’t.”

Maybe she was as cute as he was?

Peter frowned.

“You can’t _flirt_ with her, either.”

Tony smiled, wondering if his expression had given him away – and how Peter had managed to read him so easily if that was the case.

“No promises,” he said, and now he did allow himself to reach out and brush his fingertips against Peter’s, lightly, for just a moment. “But if I do, it’s only in fun,” he added. “You’re the one I plan on having in my bed, that night.”

The younger man blushed, slightly, but he smiled.

“Good.”


	18. 18

Peter spent much of his day on the phone in the little office that he had near Miss Potts’. IT was really no bigger than a fair-sized closet, which was what it had started as, before an architect, somewhere, had reminded someone building the tower that bigwigs need to have their secretaries closer than three floors down if they were going to get anything done during their workday. Peter didn’t mind that it was little; it was cozy for him and it was a quiet place for him to escape when the day got too busy or he felt over-stimulated. Not to mention, it was a god place for him to get some work done when he was doing something that didn’t require any face to face contact with anyone else.

He checked in with Miss Potts before she went to lunch, just to make sure that she didn’t need anything, and reminded her that her dry cleaning was ready and he was going to deliver it to her apartment that afternoon, so she would have plenty of choices in what she wanted to pack. Once his boss was out of the building taking a walk and enjoying _her_ lunch, Peter had gone down to the cafeteria that supported most of the people that worked at the tower. The food was good, and affordable. Peter didn’t have to worry about affordable, of course, but he was frugal by nature, so he ate there, often, usually taking his meals back to his office in case he was needed.

That day, however, he decided to just eat in the cafeteria, and he ordered a sandwich and chips and carried the tray to a corner seat with an amazing view of the city below. He’d barely opened the bag of chips before he was interrupted.

“Is this seat taken?”

Surprised to find Tony standing next to the table – Peter hadn’t been completely sure that the older man even knew where the cafeteria _was_ , after all – he gestured to the chair across from him, taking the opportunity to admire the guy, as he normally did.

Even before he’d found out what he looked like naked.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m eating.”

Peter frowned.

“You don’t have any _food_ …”

Not even a tray.

Tony reached out and stole a few chips from Peter’s bag.

“I didn’t know what was good.”

“It’s all good. I thought you were going to spend the day working on your new suit?”

“I _was_.” Tony shrugged. He’d already checked the area as he’d walked over, so he knew that their table wasn’t too close to anyone else’s, and as long as he didn’t shout, he could probably get away with saying anything. “But then I thought I’d come pester you.”

Which was only partially true. Toy had been working on his suit in his workroom. He was even making decent progress with it, but every time he started getting anything together, his mind – which was normally able to focus incredibly well – would suddenly start to drift, and he’d find himself thinking about Peter. Peter’s eyes, soft and wonderfully intelligent. Peter’s smile. Ugh. So sexy. Peter’s body. Naked and all his. It was maddening, really – especially since he knew that the boy was leaving town and wouldn’t be back, or available, for days.

The younger man smiled at the admission.

“Because I’m _so_ much more interesting than a million dollar superhero suit.”

He said it sarcastically, but Tony shrugged. He had plenty of suits. Of course, if he wanted to go looking, he could probably have plenty of young, handsome, men to keep him distracted. Of course, he might not find someone as sexy as Peter to have a quickie with to distract him from the younger man’s charms. Maybe he could. Maybe as sexy but not as bratty. And maybe he _would_ be bratty – or maybe even as _intelligent_ – but not all of those things rolled into one twink-sized wrapper. He could have almost anyone, yes, but the thought of going and looking for a quick roll reminded him of Peter’s comment about him being the town bicycle, and Tony didn’t like that. It made him feel cheap, and the last thing he wanted was to feel like that.

“You have your moments.”

That made Peter smile, and he handed over half of his sandwich.

“Are you hungry?”

“Thanks.” Tony didn’t realize that he _was_ hungry until he took a bite of the proffered sandwich. It was good, and he found himself wolfing it down. “Did you get everything done that you needed to do, this morning?”

“Everything that I _can_ ,” Peter replied, well aware that there were a lot of people in the cafeteria – and many of them were looking their way. Not because of Peter, of course, but because Tony Stark never ate there. The fact that he was eating with a lowly PA? Impossible. Not that it mattered, since none of them would dream of asking what the two were talking about – and mentioning their work on social media – or posting a clandestine photo of Tony Stark, or any number of executives or high profile visitors to the tower was immediate grounds for dismissal. It was in everyone’s contract; from the janitors, to the mailroom people, all the way up the proverbial totem pole. Peter knew, because it was in _his_ contract, too. “I made a lot of phone calls. Now I have to sit back and wait to see if there’s any interest from anyone.”

Tony knew he was talking about finding celebrities and well known people for the carnival. Not just the dunk tank, either. There were plenty of ways a famous face could help raise money, there.

“It’s a good cause, right?”

The boy raised an eyebrow, his brown eyes amused.

“Do you even know what the cause _is_?”

Since he’d rather chop off his own arm than admit that he didn’t have a clue – and hadn’t really cared – Tony shrugged, nonchalantly, and took another bite of the sandwich. Mainly to have his mouth too full to politely make a long reply.

“Of course, I do.”

Peter wasn’t fooled.

“Yeah? What is it?”

Since he was clearly willing to wait for an answer, and Tony could only chew so many times, he swallowed and took a guess.

“That one thing… for sick people.”

That was safe, right? There was always something going on for sick people. To his surprise, though, Peter nodded.

“Yes. The thing… for sick people.” He smiled, shaking his head. “Also known as _cancer research_.”

“See?” Tony couldn’t help but feel smug, even though he knew Peter wasn’t fooled. “It’s a good cause.”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Making sure that Miss Potts is ready for the trip, and that _I’m_ ready for the trip, and going over all the last minute things to make sure nothing comes up to screw it up. Did you need something?”

Ugh. And wasn't _that_ just a loaded question? Not one that he knew Peter would want him to answer, honestly, there in the crowded lunchroom, either.

“Of course not. If I _did_ , I have my own PA, remember?”

“Right.” He looked amused, though, his brown eyes cheerful. “I need to run a couple of errands when I’m done with lunch. Nothing _exciting_ ,” he added. “But if you’re not busy, I wouldn’t mind some company.”

“What kind of errands?”

“I’m going to pick up Miss Potts’ dry cleaning, and deliver it to her place.”

Ugh.

“Sounds scintillating.”

Peter wasn’t fooled.

“You can always hang out here and play with your suits.”

“No. If you’re that desperate for my company, then I guess I’ll come with you.”

The younger man smiled, handing over the bag of chips.

“Thanks. You can drive, and save me the cost of a taxi.”

Stark rolled his eyes, but he didn’t decline.

>><><><><><><><>

“You have a key to her apartment?”

“How else would I deliver her dry cleaning?”

Tony shrugged, holding the door for Peter, who was carrying a bundle of carefully wrapped outfits. He followed the boy into Pepper’s apartment, looking around with interest. It was classy and tastefully decorated, and definitely elegant.

“I don’t know. I just assumed you’d leave it at the concierge desk.”

“And have it get misplaced?” Peter shook his head, leading the way into the bedroom. This wasn’t the first time that he’d been there on this particular chore after all, and he knew the apartment well. “That would be a disaster. Better that I bring it up and make sure it’s where it’s supposed to be.”

“You’re so methodical.”

Peter nodded, disappearing into the walk in closet for a minute to hang the clothing.

“I was like that when I was a little kid, too,” he assured Tony, frowning when the billionaire sat down on the edge of Pepper’s bed. “Don’t mess it up,” he warned. “I don’t do her maid services, and I don’t get paid enough to make her bed.”

Tony smiled and reached out to catch Peter’s hand and pull him closer. He wanted to touch him.

“We could fool around,” he said, wrapping his arms around Peter’s slim waist and resting his forehead against that muscular stomach. He closed his eyes, and felt Peter’s fingers sifting through his hair, tenderly. “She wouldn’t know…”

“In my boss’s bed?” Peter’s voice was amused and it made Tony smile in response. “Not a chance.”

“I’d help you make it, when we were done.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding…”

“Yeah.” A _little_. “Saturday is too far away, Peter. I want to be inside you. Now.”

Those wonderful fingers never stopped caressing him, but it wasn’t to arouse, and Tony knew it.

“It’s not as long as you think,” the boy assured him, cradling Tony’s head in his hands.

He was so tempted! But there was no way, really. Not in Miss Potts’ apartment, and he didn’t have time in his carefully tight schedule for any side-trips to Tony’s. Or to his place – which was definitely not the place for them to have a roll in the hay.

“What am I going to do while you’re gone?”

“What did you do before _last night_?”

Tony huffed.

“Watched porn and masturbated.”

“Poor baby.”

Peter slid to his knees, but he didn’t reach for Tony’s zipper like the billionaire had hoped that he would. Instead, he rested his cheek against Tony’s thigh, putting his head in the man’s lap, but not the _fun_ way. This was more along the line of the boy asking, silently, for some comfort of his own and Tony reacted, automatically, lightly stroking his cheek and running his fingers through those soft curls.

“Does Pepper know about us?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t tell her.”

“Do you want it to be a _secret_?”

“I don’t want anyone to think I’m a gold digger.”

Pepper wouldn’t, Peter knew. She knew that he didn’t need to be working, and she would give him the benefit of the doubt if (when?) she found out he’d slept with Tony. The rest of the tower wouldn’t be so kind, and it would make things less pleasant for him, because people would treat him, differently.

“Fair enough.” Tony pulled Peter up to his feet, standing as well, and then kissed him, tenderly. “Come on, baby,” he murmured, smiling at the way Peter smiled at the address. “I’ll get you back to your office so you can finish what you need to do.”

“Thank you.”

The boy did steal another kiss before he headed for the door, and Tony shook his head, taking a final look at the bed before following Peter out of the bedroom.

“But I’m picking you up on Saturday.”

“I know.” He hesitated at the door to the hall. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“So am I.”


	19. 19

“There’s something to be said about a well planned schedule,” Pepper said, looking around the hotel suite with satisfaction.

Peter nodded, watching as the bellhop went around the main room, setting down Pepper’s carryon bag on a table by the large sofa under a huge picture window before vanishing into the suite’s bedroom with the rest of her luggage.

“True.” He walked over to the phone, which was on a coffee table that was just as fancy as the rest of the room. “There’s a menu for room service, and the patio has a hot tub if you’re feeling the need to relax. I made sure that your evening is clear so you can get plenty of rest and have a chance to look around if you want to. The initial meeting with our hosts is scheduled for brunch, across the street, at 10 o’clock.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked her, as the bellhop returned and accepted the tip Pepper offered with a shy smile before leaving.

“No. What are _you_ going to do?”

“I’m going to relax for a bit, then make a few calls to assure everyone that we’ve arrived, safely. Including our hosts. I’ll go over the schedule with their people, one more time, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

“Make sure you take time to eat something,” she reminded him.

“I will. Thank you.”

He was pleased that she was kind enough to care.

“Do me a favor,” she added, acting as if it were an afterthought – although it was nothing of the sort. “Will you call Tony and make sure he knows that we’ve arrived safe and sound?”

“Of course. Did you have any messages for him?”

“Tell him not to lose the tower in a poker game while we’re gone.”

Peter smiled, and couldn’t wait to do just that.

“I’ll be sure to mention it.”

“Thank you.”

It was a dismissal, and he was sure that she was ready to relax for a while.

The limo had arrived at Peter’s right on time, and Happy had been willing to help Peter carry what little luggage he had to the car. It didn’t hurt, Peter supposed, that he had a box of assorted donuts in one arm and had offered one to the driver – who had accepted with a grin as he closed the door.

They’d arrived at Miss Potts’ right on time, and the woman had answered Peter’s knock on the door, promptly. She’d smiled at Peter, her expression somewhat unreadable to the boy, who told her that he’d get her things for her, and she could just head down to the car. She’d carried the smaller bag, herself, instead, and had asked him how his morning had gone as they walked to the elevator, together.

She, too, had appreciated a sweet as Happy drove them to the private airfield where the Stark Industries private jets were kept when they weren’t in use on one of the multitude of business trips. The pilot and steward had been waiting to greet them, and the steward helped stow luggage and settle the two passengers, while the pilot went to help the copilot finish their preflight checklist.

Peter had been offered his choice of beverages as he’d settled into the plush leather of the seat, and had then been told all he needed to know about the jet and what they had for emergency procedures. The flight was five and a half hours, he and Pepper were told, but the weather was supposed to be good, and their trip shouldn’t be too bumpy.

Pepper had watched Peter look around the expensive interior, even as she pulled out a book to read.

“First time in a private jet?” she asked.

It was their first trip together, so she knew he hadn’t been in one of the SI jets.

“First time in any plane.”

“Really?”

He nodded, and smiled, unable to force down his excitement.

“It’s my first time _anywhere_ , really.”

Pepper was surprised, really. As efficient as he’d been getting things set up, she’d assumed he did this kind of thing all the time.

“You’ll enjoy it,” she’d assured him. “Private planes are much better than flying commercial. The lines are long, the staff is grumpy, and there’s _always_ a crying baby in the seat next to you.”

His eyes were amused.

“If I cry, you can hit me with a pillow.”

Pepper had snorted her amusement, reminded him to ask the steward for anything that he wanted, and had opened her book, more than ready to pass the flight doing something as mundane as reading a paperback romance novel.

The flight had been as smooth as they could have asked. Halfway through they were fed a first class meal, and Pepper had asked Peter a few questions about the carnival and how the preparations were going for it. He’d had his tablet handy, so it hadn’t been hard for him to answer – and for him to show her what he had lined up.

“Is Tony going to do the dunk tank?” she’d asked over a dessert of sorbet.

“He hasn’t said yes, yet,” Peter replied. He smiled. “I think that he’s hoping we’ll forget that we asked him.”

“Don’t let me forget.”

“I won’t.”

Then she’d gone back to reading, and Peter had gone back to looking out the window at the world passing by underneath them.

They’d been met at the airfield by a car from the hotel, and the efficient staff had been waiting when they’d arrived. Peter had stopped long enough to make sure that Miss Potts was checked in and didn’t need to wait in a line, anywhere, and the two had been led to the elevator.

Now that she was settled in her suite he went to his room – which was much less opulent, but still really nice. The bellhop had left his things on his bed, and Peter was quick to hang what needed to be hanged, and put everything else into the dresser. Peter made all of the calls that he needed to make, except the one to Tony. He wanted to save that for later, when he was relaxed and comfortable and maybe settled into the room for the night. Maybe Tony would have time to talk to him?

With that happy thought in mind, he picked up the keycard and went out to explore the hotel, and the area surrounding it – including the venue for their brunch.

><><><><><>

He was just returning to his room a couple of hours later, much more familiar with the hotel, some of the staff, and the grounds around it. He’d grabbed dinner at the restaurant across the street, and it had been good, but he wasn’t above having a snack. He was just picking up the complimentary bowl of fruit and treats when his cell rang. He frowned when he looked at the number, because he definitely didn’t recognize it.

“Hello?”

_“Hey…”_

Peter smiled at the sound of Tony’s voice on the other end of the call. And then he rolled his eyes, amused with himself for being so happy to hear him.

“Hi.”

_“You’re there safe?”_

Peter nodded, even though the billionaire couldn’t see it.

“We landed about 6 o’clock.”

_“You could have called to let me know you arrived, safe.”_

“I was _going_ to,” Peter replied, apologetically. “I just thought that-“

_“Do you have video calling?”_

“Yes.”

_“Hang up.”_

He did as he was told, and a moment later his phone rang, again. This time Peter hit the right button, and then Tony’s handsome face was filling his display.

“Hey…”

The older man smiled, his brown eyes seemingly studying Peter.

_“Hey, yourself. How are you doing?”_

“I’m good.” Peter sat down on the sofa, his eyes never leaving the screen. “You?”

_“I’m fine.”_

The boy smiled, too.

“Miss me?”

Those brown eyes widened.

_“You’re_ gone _?”_

It made Peter chuckle.

“How was your day?”

_“Fine. Worked on my suit for a while. How was the flight?”_

“Exciting.” He told the older man about the flight, and their landing, and then the ride to the hotel and all of the boring, mundane things that had happened since then. Tony didn’t once interrupt him or look away, and Peter didn’t realize that he was rambling until he came to the end of his narration. “And then I came back to my room, and here I am…”

_“Are you done for the day?”_

“Yes. Unless Miss Potts needs me for something. She asked me to remind you that she doesn’t want you losing the tower in a poker game.”

_“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you going to be up for a while?”_ he asked. _“Or are you tired from traveling?”_

“I was in a _plane_ ,” Peter reminded him. “It isn’t like I was flapping my arms.”

Tony smirked and shook his head.

_“Smart ass.”_ His expression softened. _“Can you talk for a while?”_

“Yes.”


	20. 20

Happy was standing at the edge of the tarmac, leaning lazily against the limo when the expensive sportscar pulled up and parked beside him. He turned his attention from the sky to look at Tony Stark when the billionaire got out from behind the wheel of the sleek car.

“What are you doing here?” the driver asked, curiously.

“The plane’s coming, soon, right?”

“Yeah.”

Stark shrugged.

“Then I’m coming to meet the plane.”

That clearly wasn’t enough of an answer.

“Because…?”

Tony was saved the need to answer by an announcement coming over the external speakers of the airfield, announcing the arrival of the Stark Industries jet.

“Just because,” Tony replied, turning to look the same direction that Happy was, and catching the glint of metal against the fading evening sun.

The small speck of metal soon became the sleek private jet, and as the two men watched the landing gear came down as it approached the runway. The pilots could be seen in the front window as they made their approach and soon there was the sound of screeching wheels on asphalt and then the squeal as the brakes were applied while the jet made a few small bounces and then settled, landing easily and then coasting to a stop right beside the two cars and the two men.

There was a soft hiss of hydraulics, and a ground crew from the airfield pushed a portable staircase up flush against the door. A few minutes of silence and then the cabin door was opened and Pepper Potts was standing at the top of the stairs, looking around. She turned her head as if speaking to someone behind her, and both men watched as she walked down the stairs. A moment later, Peter Parker also walked out of the door, and then down the steps. He glanced at Happy, and then looked at Tony, unable to not smile.

A smile that the billionaire responded to with one of his own, and it never faded when Pepper stopped in front of him, looking curious.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” he asked, feigning annoyance. “It’s my company. I can’t be interested in how the trip went?”

“ _Are_ you interested in how the trip went?”

“Of course I am.” His attention went to Peter, who was talking to the steward at the bottom of the stairs, now, holding their carryon bags. One of the ground crew people was opening the belly of the jet to start pulling out the few pieces of luggage that they hadn’t needed during the flight. “How did it go?”

“The fabrication company is very impressive.”

“Good.” Tony forced his attention back to Pepper. “Did they impress you enough to want to work with them?”

“The contracts are already signed.”

“Great.” He glanced at Peter, again, as the boy walked over, loaded down with two different sets of luggage. “Do we go celebrate?”

“I’m going home,” Pepper said. She was tired, and three straight days of almost constant meetings, tours, and negotiating had definitely taken their toll. “I’m going to soak in my tub and have something that doesn’t involve meat and barbeque sauce for dinner, before I fall into my bed and sleep for a week.”

“Oh.”

“Peter might be willing to tell you more about the trip,” she suggested, glancing at her PA.

She knew he was tired, too – he’d been on the go even more than she had, after all, working tirelessly in the background the last few days, making sure that all of the meetings, negotiations, power meals, and tours went smoothly. But she also knew that the younger man wouldn’t say no to a chance to spend some time with Tony. He hadn’t mentioned the man more than once or twice during their trip – and usually in response to a question from one of their hosts – but like she’d told Tony; she was adept at reading those people around her, and Peter wasn’t an exception.

Tony looked at Peter, raising an eyebrow and trying to look less eager than he really was.

“Well, Peter? What do you say? Care to debrief me?”

Pepper rolled her eyes at the phrasing, but was careful not to let either of them see it. Instead, she turned to Happy, who took the hint and headed for the back to door to open it for her before he started taking her luggage from Peter, who was still looking at Tony.

“Yeah. I mean, sure.”

“Good.” Tony took the heaviest of bags from Peter, walking toward the back of his own car and tossing it in. “Get in.” He looked at Pepper. “You’re taking Monday off?”

“No. I’ll see you on Monday. Peter? Thank you very much.”

The boy smiled and Tony decided that he did look a little tired.

“I had a great time. Thank _you_ for bringing me.”

Pepper got into the limo, with Happy closing the door behind her and glancing at Peter, and then at Stark.

“You’re taking him?” he asked, pointedly. “I don’t want a call in twenty minutes saying that he’s stranded at the airfield.”

“I’ve got him.” He turned to the boy, “Get in the car, Peter.”

“Okay.”

Happy waited for Peter to do as he’d been told, and then he got behind the wheel of the limo and left, driving off – literally – into the sunset. Tony got into the sportscar and closed the door, looking over at Peter and his smile was suddenly tender.

“Hi, honey…”

Peter blushed, slightly, and his own smile was happy.

“Hi.”

It wasn’t as though they hadn’t communicated while Peter was gone. Pepper didn’t know it, but once her PA was finished making sure she was settled into her hotel suite every evening, Peter would go to his own room and call Tony. The two would talk for hours into the night and then early morning, with Peter telling Tony how his day had gone, and the billionaire then telling his young lover what he’d been doing that day. They purposely hadn’t talked about sex, or what they wanted to be doing to the other, simply because it was agony to be so hard and not have the other there to ease that ache, but they spoke of many other things, until Peter’s day would catch up with him, and he’d start nodding off.

When that happened, Tony would end the conversation with a gentle order for the boy to go to bed, and Peter would comply.

As a result, Peter didn’t get a lot of sleep, but he was much more comfortable with Tony. Even more than he’d been when he’d left.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Tony leaned forward and kissed him, then. Gently at first, and then with more ardor when Peter opened his lips in silent plea for Tony’s tongue to taste him. The kiss was definitely more heated than Tony intended, but he was smiling when he pulled away, finally.

“Do I really have to take you home, first?” he asked, turning on the car.

“I told May to expect me.”

“But you’ll come home with me?”

“Yes.”

Tony kissed Peter, again – this time on the cheek – and then took his hand and placed it on his thigh. Not so high that the boy was groping his somewhat interested penis, but close enough that Tony could rest his own palm on it whenever he wasn’t shifting.

“Let’s go, then. I can’t wait to meet the woman that raised you. She must have a million stories.”

“I’ve sworn her to secrecy,” Peter said, smiling, and leaning back into the comfortable seat of the car. He closed his eyes, feeling just a bit tired and hoping to allow himself a chance to recharge on the long drive into the city. He slid his fingers along the meaty part of Tony’s thigh. “She won’t tell you anything.”

“We’ll see.”

><><<><><><>

“Seriously?”

Peter looked back at Tony, who had offered to carry the bigger of the two bags. With Tony carrying that one, Peter only had to sling his backpack over his shoulder and the smaller bag that held all his toiletries and little things and head for the stairwell.

Tony had followed, trudging up three flights of stairs before he finally stopped in mid-step, scowling.

“What?”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“What floor do you live on?”

“The Fifth.”

“And there isn’t an _elevator_?”

Peter’s eyes were amused, but he schooled his expression into utter innocence.

“Of course there’s an elevator. I just assumed you wanted the cardio.”

Torn between annoyed and amused – but mostly annoyed, since he was way too old to be carrying so much shit up a million stairs – the billionaire frowned.

“Are you _kidding_ me?”

Peter shook his head, and he leaned against Tony, leading with a kiss that landed perfectly on Tony’s mouth. A kiss that was sweet, and hot and Tony found his breath catching – and it had nothing to do with all the stairs he’d been climbing.

“Do you want me to carry the bag?” Peter offered, when he broke the kiss.

“I’ll carry it,” Tony told him. “But you’re getting a spanking the first chance I get.”

Peter smiled, clearly not too concerned.

“Yes, daddy.”

<><<><><><>

May Parker wasn’t alone when they reached the apartment. Tony was a little out of breath when he greeted her, politely, and was then introduced to her friend – neither actually used the word boyfriend – Jef, who Tony already knew owned the bakery on the ground floor of the building.

The baker took Peter’s bag from Tony as he shook his hand, and May thanked him for bringing Peter home and saving them the trouble of going to fetch him at the airfield. Tony assured her that it was his pleasure, and was invited in to have some bakery fresh rolls and cheese.

Peter excused himself to go get unpacked, and to throw his clothes in the hamper, and returned in time to hear May telling Tony about the first time Peter had tried acting. The boy came around behind her, and clamped his hand over her mouth, amused rather than mortified.

“I thought you were sworn to secrecy,” he reminded her.

She grinned.

“Tony offered to take pictures with us if I told him something about your childhood.”

“And the first thing that you thought of was attempt at being Abe Lincoln?”

“You were great.”

“I was eight,” Peter said, shaking his head, and rolling his eyes. “Get your pictures with him,” he said. “Then I’m going to make him take me out to eat.”

“I could cook you something,” she offered.

“He thinks you’re pretty nice, right now,” Peter told her, leaning down and hugging his aunt, genuinely happy to see her. “If you poison him with your cooking, he’s going to be disenchanted. Let’s ease him into that.”

May took a swipe at him that he dodged, and she and Jef had several selfies with Tony before he and the boy excused themselves to leave.

“Do we wait up?” May asked, softly, as Peter carried the few dishes that they’d used into the kitchen and Tony headed for the door.

“No.”

This time, he led Tony to the elevator.

><<><><>><>

“I have something for you,” Stark told Peter as they were buckling their seatbelts, only a few minutes later.

“Oh?” It was full dark, now, but while Peter’s apartment wasn’t ritzy, it also wasn’t a place where there was much chance of them being robbed, or something. Of course, he was with Ironman, and Tony’s suit could engage in an instant if something happened. “What?”

The older man handed him a large envelope, and started the car. Having no trouble seeing in the low light, Peter nonetheless turned the overhead light on, to read the simple sheets of paper that he pulled out.

“Those are test results,” Tony told him, before Peter could ask. “I had them done while you were gone.”

“Test results?” Peter echoed. “What – _oh_.” He flushed, feeling a surge of excitement. STD tests, he read. And all of them negative. “Wow.”

“Are you clean?” Tony asked, pointedly.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Tony reached for Peter’s hand, again, and this time he rested it in his lap. “Get me hard while we drive to my place, baby. Daddy’s going to fill you up, tonight.”

“Jesus…”

Peter didn’t argue, though, and his fingers immediately began to slide along the fabric of Tony’s expensive slacks.

Suddenly he wasn’t tired at all.


	21. 21

On the drive to Tony’s they talked about the trip. Mostly about the flight home and what Peter had done that day, since Tony had checked in with him every evening, and knew how things had been going up to that morning. While his fingers idly traced the length of Tony’s rigid penis through the fabric of his slacks, Peter told him about the final day of their trip. A last brunch, which was a working brunch.

Even though Peter wasn’t – technically – a negotiator for the merger, he was at the table sitting beside Pepper and listening as she finalized all of the last few points on the contract that she wanted to make certain were clear. These were contracts that Peter had emailed to the Stark Industries lawyers the evening before – before Tony had called – and that he’d printed out from their reply emails just that morning.

After brunch had been a final meeting with the lesser entities of the Wichita company. Lesser, but just as important for Pepper to know and at least have some chance to put names that she had heard to faces, now. The occasion had been a mix of meeting and cocktail party – sans anything that actually was alcoholic, since it was still fairly early in the day. By the time it was over, the newest incarnation of the contracts had been sent back from the lawyers, with all the required changes, and Peter had watched as Pepper and Anderson both signed them and shook hands. The deal was done, and now everyone could relax, just a little.

Declining an invitation to stay over the weekend and maybe have another go at the famous barbeque there, Pepper had pointed out that she had to be back by Monday to explain the contracts to her own VPs – and to her boss. Which had brought up a discussion of Tony, of course.

“What did you guys say about me?” Tony asked, curiously, watching the road and the traffic, but definitely listening to what Peter was telling him. “Good things, right?”

“You’re Ironman,” Peter reminded him, still playing with Tony’s erection, but more focused on the conversation. “We talked about the Avengers, and the whole battle of New York, thing, and if you were going to come on the next business trip.”

“Tell me Pepper didn’t say I was coming…” he asked, making a low noise of approval when Peter’s thumb found the head of his cock through his pants and flicked against it a few times, sending pulses of pleasure though his groin.

“She invited them to come to New York, next time,” Peter told him. “It won’t be for months, though, so I won’t be here for it, probably, but they’re nice people. You’ll probably get along with them, alright.”

Tony nodded. Peter was only filling in for Pepper’s regular PA while she was out on maternity leave, and the billionaire knew it. Peter was good at the assistant thing, Tony knew, now, but he was still far too intelligent to be one, full time and forever.

“Let’s hope so,” he said. “Otherwise I’m going to be hiding out from them – and Pepper doesn’t like it when I’m anti-social. Then what happened?”

“We said our goodbyes, went back to the hotel and packed whatever wasn’t already packed, and then went to the airfield and caught out flight back here.”

“Busy day…”

“Yeah.”

Tony slid his hand along Peter’s leg, not groping, but caressing, nonetheless.

“Did you sleep on the plane?”

“No. I tried to, but it’s still too new a thing for me, I think. I kept looking out the window.”

No wonder he’d looked so tired coming off the jet. Tony pulled the car into the parking garage of his apartment building.

“Don’t worry,” he promised. “I’ll let you sleep, soon.”

Peter smiled, palming Tony’s crotch, almost possessively.

“Not _too_ soon, though, right?”

“Right.”

<><><><><><><

“You’re walking funny…”

Tony rolled his eyes, privately relieved that no one else was in the elevator with them. There might be video security footage, but FRIDAY would delete it, since she was as fiercely jealous of his privacy as he was. No sense letting the security people have any footage of what he was up to and who he was up to it with, after all.

“Because you’re extremely good at doing what you’re told,” Stark told him, caressing the small of Peter’s back as they waited for their stop. “Don’t worry, though,” he added. “I’m going to put that ability to good use, the next day or two.”

Peter’s eyes widened, slightly.

“The next day or two?” he echoed. “You don’t have weekend plans?”

“I do,” Tony corrected. He bent and kissed Peter’s lips, tenderly, before pulling back and smiling. “But they all include spending time with you in various stages of nakedness and sweating.”

Which made Peter smile, and Tony could see that he was pleased – and excited – by the idea.

“I do have a few things that I’ll need to do, though,” he reminded the older man.

“Can they wait until Sunday evening?” Tony asked, the bell dinging to remind them that they were on Tony’s floor.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He brought his hand around Peter’s lean waist when the elevator door opened, and he led him into his apartment, closing the door behind them. “What are you in the mood for?” he asked, turning Peter so he was pressed with his back against the wood of the door and Stark’s body was pressed against his front, lightly. He kissed him, gently, forcing himself to wait and allow Peter’s reply, so he could respond, appropriately. “Roleplay? Do you want me to be daddy? Do I get on my knees and suck on you until you can’t stand it and you’re begging me to swallow you, load after load? Do I put you on _your_ knees and feed you my cock until you have a bellyful of me?”

Peter made an anguished sound at the idea of having so many options. He’d been so eager for this, again! So ready to be with Tony, right since the morning that he’d forced himself to leave Tony sleeping in his bed so he could go to work. It was even more exciting, now, because with a clear bill of health, the older man had already made it clear that there wasn’t anything that was off limits to him – and considered the same to be true for himself.

“I don’t want to roleplay,” Peter told him, sliding his fingers down Tony’s belly and lower. “I just want you to do whatever you want to make us both ache in the morning. You already know what I don’t like,” he reminded him. “Do anything else.”

Stark rumbled with pleasure at the sensation of Peter’s touch, and the license that he’d just been given to do anything that he wanted. He started unbuttoning Peter’s shirt, barely noticing that his belt had already been undone and that Peter was sliding his zipper down.

“You’re going to suck my cock,” he murmured, kissing Peter, again, and once more forcing it to be soft and sensual instead of as demanding as he wanted, just then. The boy’s shirt fell to the floor, and Tony’s pants joined it, a moment later. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of them. “You’re going to get me off with just your mouth. You can do that, right?”

“Yes…”

Peter started to drop to his knees, but Tony caught him, his hands under his arms.

“Not yet, though, honey,” he said, pressing his already aching cock against Peter’s belly as he brought him back to his feet. “First, there’s the simple matter of your punishment…”

The boy groaned, impatient to take his first taste of Tony.

“I don’t need punished,” he pointed out, his hand sliding under the older man’s waistband, to try and fish Tony’s cock from his boxers. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You made me walk up four flights of stairs…”

“I didn’t _make_ you,” Peter said. He took hold of the hem of Tony’s shirt and pulled it up, and off, tossing it to the side. “You could have _asked_ if there was an elevator, and you didn’t.”

“Nice try,” Stark told him. “But, no.” He wrapped his arms around Peter, hugging him close and feeling… _happy_ … to have him in his arms like he was. The anticipation of what was going to come was there, of course, but it was more than that – even if his aroused mind refused to even consider anything else, just then. He kissed Peter’s ear, rutting himself slowly against the boy for a long moment before he pulled back, and smiled at just how eager the younger man looked. How needy. “Two swats for every flight of stairs… and two more for packing the heaviest bag I’ve ever carried.”

Peter snorted his amusement, and stood still while Tony reached for the button on his jeans.

“It wasn’t that heavy,” he protested, softly, as Tony slid his pants down, freeing his cock, which bobbed up, eagerly, when he did. He was as hard as he could ever remember being. Aching for Tony’s touch. “Maybe you’re out of shape, hmmm?”

He stepped out of his shoes and then his pants, and now the two of them were naked. Tony looked down between them, his hand following his line of sight, grasping Peter’s cock and stroking him, lightly.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

Peter nodded, slightly breathless.

“Yeah. I like that, Tony…”

“I can tell.” Stark kissed him, again. “Maybe we can hold off on the spanking for a bit…” He walked over to the couch, his hand still on Peter’s cock, more or less forcing him to follow. Then he let him go and pushed him, lightly, down onto the couch and stepped up between his knees, his own cock right on the level with Peter’s mouth. “Put that smart mouth of yours to good use, honey,” he crooned, his fingers going to Peter’s hair to take a handful of those soft curls. The other hand guided the head of his cock to Peter’s lips, and the boy opened them, immediately, already salivating, Tony noticed with approval.

It was definitely going to be a good weekend. He’d make sure of it.


End file.
